#i will fund the musical god bless

[sugurufic]

Student of the Year (Gojo x Reader, Geto x Reader)

Summary: Saint Teresa, the planned destination for the rich, and a dream for those who can't afford it. Of course, there's a tension between the rich and the scholarship kids, the rich ones acting so much better than the others. All of that changes, when Suguru Geto, the new scholarship kid joins, blurring the lines between the two cliques. Satoru Gojo, the resident rockstar, the son of the most affluent man, the poster boy of the rich. You, the hottest girl on campus, Satoru’s girlfriend (or are you). Friends, bitches, love and betrayal - a competition to ruin all relationships. 

Content Warning: fluff, fights, focused on SatoSugu, reader is rich and low-key a bitch, fuckboy Satoru, love triangle (stsg and reader) breakups, friendship breakups, typical Bollywood drama, a few swear words, ends on a positive note

Word Count: 21k | masterlist

A/N: For those of you unfamiliar with SOTY i've attached the links to the movie's songs <3 the tall guy is Sugu and shorter one is Satoru's character

Saint Teresa - the college where dreams come true, or nightmares become real. Saint Teresa is a big name with a big game - having a big division in the trust fund kids and the scholarship kids. There’s the star of the trust fund kids - Satoru Gojo - the son of the biggest tycoon of the country, who is blessed by the gods with a charming face and a gift for music, and wants to be a rockstar. Music is his passion, but he does have a lover - only the prettiest girl of Saint Teresa, the one sought after by everyone who's anyone. She drowns in luxury, dropping brand names like they were some pop stars. The only things she doesn’t lack are beauty and money.

One might think that with the prettiest girl of the school at his side, Satoru wouldn’t even look at other people, but as the first day of the new college term rolls out, you’re met with the sight of your boyfriend of four years getting a little to cosy to Tanya, his hand on her waist and her hands on his chest. You see red - the wine in your hand finding a target besides your mouth.

You pat his back, trying to get his attention, but he pushes you off in favour of whispering dirty-nothings to Tanya, the brunette soaking up his attention. The fates are cruel and the other woman notices you first, and Satoru only turns around to see you when Tanya asks him to.

He’s shocked, surprised and begins profusely apologising for not noticing you earlier, while Tanya looks at you with an annoying smirk plastered on her face.

“You know Tanya, wine stains are the hardest to get rid off,” You tell her, feeling positively malicious, directing your anger at her instead of Satoru.

“Thanks for the washing machine tip, I guess?” She responds, her voice snarky.

“You’ll need it,” you say, before throwing the remaining wine onto her white top and stalking away from the both of them.

“Baby, listen!” Satoru calls after you, catching up easily with his long legs. “Baby, I said I’m sorry, why did you have to do that?”

“Listen, Satoru,” You emphasised on his name, an angry crease between your brows. “If you don’t leave your company this term, I will leave you. Fix yourself.”

“Baby, you look so sexy, all jealous and threatening me,” Satoru teases, licking his lips as he looks down at you.

“I’m being serious, Satoru,” You say, not using any endearments for him. “You’ve been at it for too long. Stop testing me.”

A new sports scholarship student joins Saint Teresa for the new term, state level track gold medalist and a martial arts champion - Suguru Geto. He’s from a humble background, not having the flair and pomp of the rich kids, but he has the confidence and the skills to make things work. He drives his simple motorbike to the campus from the dorms, backpack on his shoulder. His long dark hair is tied up in a bun, and a few bangs frame his pretty face. 

(Kukkad)

He parks his bike at an empty spot, when two guys, one blond and the other raven  haired, come up to him. Suguru looks at them, a little confused, but doesn’t say anything regardless.

“Hey bangs guy, don’t you know this parking spot is reserved for the Satoru Gojo?” Ichiji Kiyotaka says. He too is one of the scholarship kids, dressed in simple clothes. His companion, Kento Nanami, seems like a scholarship kid as well with his too-neat hair and simple shirt and jeans. “Go park your bike somewhere else.”

He looks at them, scowling, but doesn’t attempt to move his bike.

Just then, the man in question rolls in with his blue Ferrari, lips turned up in disgust on seeing his usual spot occupied with a cheap bike he can’t even be bothered to know the name of. 

“Kiyotaka, why is the trash here?” His voice is arrogant and full of himself, glaring at Kiyotaka and the bangs guy from behind his opaque sunglasses. “Don’t I pay you to keep my spot empty everyday?”

“This trash is called a motorbike and runs on petrol, you see,” Suguru says, voice laced in calm confidence.

“What did you say was your name again?” Satoru asks, sparkly blue eyes scrutinising him up and down from under his fluffy white hair - right from his bun and bangs to his sneakers, lip curling in disgust.

“I simply never said it,” Suguru simply says, purple eyes fixed on him, a model of confidence.

Satoru’s sidekick, another kid paying full fees, Yu Haibara, chimed in,  “Are you trying to play Crorepati with us? You’ll give options and then we’ll have to choose?”

“I’m called Suguru Geto,” Suguru finally says, the air of confidence never leaving him.

“Suguru,” Satoru tries saying his name, the disinterest in his voice feigns - behind his sunglasses, his blue eyes are trying to find a point of weakness. “Well, Suguru, this is my parking spot, and I’m asking you to take your tractor away.”

Suguru doesn’t respond, going to the blue Ferrari instead, saying, “2005 Ferrari F360 Spider convertible, 400 horsepower with alloy wheels, a great car.”

“What are you man or Google?” Kiyotaka Ichiji comments.

“Maybe he was a mechanic back in his village,” Satoru says, looking down on him.

“A valet at the nightclub,” Suguru says.

“Valet?” Satoru says, giddy on finally finding a weakness. He throws him the keys of the car, which the bangs guy expertly catches and says, “Take the keys and park my car. And here’s some cash, maybe get your tractor cleaned.” He pauses for a moment, then adds. “Keep the change,”

Everyone waits with a baited breath to see the calm, confident bangs guy reaction, Satoru with a cocky smirk on his lips as Suguru calmly gets in the driver side of the car and the engine roars to life. There’s a collective gasp as Suguru takes the 2005 F360 to the muddy ground and runs it around in near perfect doughnuts, turning the baby blue to a muddy brown. There’s a crowd gathered around him, loud gossip travelling in the crowd, half terrified, half annoyed but most of it admiring the man with the bangs.

The white haired man’s heart threatens to burst out of his chest at the rage he’s feeling - no one ever dares to cross him, especially not a scholarship kid who couldn’t even afford to be there. He is seeing red, eyes bloodshot and focused on Suguru, he’ll rip the confidence right out of him with the bangs everyone is seeming to talk about.

Satoru is ready to fight, when Suguru lazily steps out of the blue Ferrari and throws the keys right back to the owner. When Satoru is in closer range, the dark haired man takes the cash that he’d been given and hands it back saying, “Here’s some cash to get your car cleaned.” Suguru steps back and takes a short pause. “And please, keep the change.”

Being insulted like that on the first day of the new term by some scholarship brat was not on Satoru Gojo’s bucket list. He is red with rage, and throws the sunglasses off and pushes his white hair back from his forehead before raising his fists to hit the new guy, but Suguru’s easy defence only eggs him on more. They’re fighting, but Suguru has a bit of the upper hand with his expertise in martial arts. But soon the two are being pulled apart by the crowd while the rest continue recording the fight. To everyone else, it was a brilliant first day of school, and gossip fodder for everyone for the whole term.

They’re both escorted to the Dean, Masamichi Yaga’s office, the old man not very happy to be dealing with silly boy fist fights on the first day of the newest term. He has been in a nice mood this morning after talking with his bonsai plant, but that’s ruined now. He sounds jolly when he begins his questions, “Boys will be boys, bad boys, right?”  His jolly tone deceives Satoru who nods in agreement.

“No, nonsense. This uncivilised behaviour is unexpected from students of St. Teresa,” He scolds them both. “Which one of you started the fight?”

“Sir, he did,” Satoru says, pointing to his left. “He parked in my spot,”

“It was empty when I came,” Suguru counters, annoyed. “It’s not your father’s parking, is it?”

“You know what, it actually is,” Satoru turns to him, nerves getting the best of him. “My father is the biggest trustee of St. Teresa-”

“You must think that your dad pays my salary as well then, Mr. Gojo,” Dean Yaga intervenes in a sassy voice. “You don’t speak like that in my office, Mr. Gojo. Speaking of your father, I’ve invited him as our first guest speaker, so he’ll be here in a day or two. I’ll let him know of your antics then,”

Satoru quickly turns around, white hair flying in all directions as the anger turns into surprise, blue eyes comically widen,“Please don’t, sir.”

“Now shake your hands like gentlemen and don’t repeat this same mistake,” Yaga says, smiling sweetly. He was an eccentric man - kinder and gentler to his plants than to most of his faculty and students. The two men reluctantly shake their hands and share a plastic smile, if only to get out of the Dean’s office.

- - - - - -

“Satoru, you were acting so recklessly,” you say, applying an ointment to the bruise on his cheekbone. The brunette Tanya, not discouraged by your wine attack, was sitting right beside your boyfriend, worrying herself. Shoko, your best friend, rolls her eyes, not very fond of Tanya or Satoru.

“Who does this new guy think he is, not respecting you?” Tanya says instead, feeding into his bloated ego. “It’s good that you taught him a lesson,”

Yu agrees, always the loyal sidekick. “That’s right, Satoru, he had no right to steal your parking spot then humiliate you like that. Bloody scholarship brat.”

- - - - -

“Suguru, you’ve earnt us scholarship kids respect,” Nanami, the blond man of a few words says. “The way you handled Satoru, I salute you on behalf of all of us.”

Suguru raises his eyebrow to acknowledge his classmate, but continues going forward, excited to hear Isamu Gojo talk about his success in becoming a raging business tycoon in the country while coming from nothing.

“Where are you going?” Kento asks. “You can’t go to the front, that’s for the trust fund kids. Come here, sit with your bank account.”

“I’ll sit where I want,” Suguru says with that calm confidence typical of him. He sits down right next to Shoko, who sat with her friends - Satoru and his group of the one-percenter kids. All of your eyes flit to him, but he seemingly doesn’t care - or if he does, he is doing a great job not showing it.

You take note of his bangs, and his hair in bun - you’re half jealous of his hair and partly angry at his treatment of your boyfriend, but you also admire his confidence. Turning back to Satoru, you see him staring at bangs guy, eyes full of spite - it seems even worse than your spite towards that bitch Tanya. “Satoru, don’t,” you quietly whisper to him, putting your hand on his. He only gives an annoyed glance, which hurts you more than it should have.

“Good morning boys and girls, I am very delighted to have our first session with a guest speaker, one of the leading business tycoons of the country - Isamu Gojo!” Dean Yaga says, and the whole crowd erupts in cheers and applause. Satoru is quick to plug his ears with his earbuds, loud music already blaring through. “We’re glad that you could join us today, Mr. Gojo.”

“I hope you are having a wonderful term so far, ladies and gentlemen,” Isamu Gojo says. He too is a big, tall man with white hair and light eyes, the resemblance with his son almost uncanny. “I would like to correct you, Masamichi, I’m the leading business tycoon of the country,” he then proceeds to laugh at his own joke, enjoying the way the Dean and the teacher’s smile drops. “See, I’m not one for guiding you to bookish studies, your teachers are enough for that. Your teachers teach you the rules of the world, but keep one thing in mind: it's the winners who make those rules. So keep up your winning spirit and dedication, and play the game to win - not to learn the rules.”

He beams with pride as the crowd roars in applause, as if he just hadn’t insulted the whole faculty body of the school. Satoru too joins the applause, even though he hadn’t heard a word - he didn’t need to, hearing the condescending words all the time back at home. Somehow, he’s even more spiteful of his own father than he is of the bangs guy.

- - - - -

“Suguru Geto,” The coach says, noticing Suguru after classes a couple of days later. Everyone knows Suguru by now - his fight with Satoru Gojo, then his calm confidence in classes, with his pretty face and unique hair is the talk of all cliques. “State Level Track gold-medalist and martial arts expert… Have you ever played football?”

“I have, sir,” Suguru says, smiling politely. 

“Why don’t you come for the tryouts tomorrow?” Coach says. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

“I’ll be there, sir.” Suguru promises.

Unsurprisingly, Satoru and his loyal sidekick Haibara are a part of the football team. Kiyotaka is acting as the coach’s assistant - keeping things in order for him. Satoru Gojo’s clique tries so hard to ruin Suguru’s tryouts for the team, attempting to trip him, tackle him, but his graceful movements and power packed kicks are more than enough to defend and dodge himself, all the while managing to score a perfect goal. Satoru’s usually pretty face is creased with frowns and scowls, mood sour at Suguru making it into his team. He’ll be sure to rub the bangs guy in the mud once he is appointed captain, determined to show the coach that the village brat is a bastard.

“Haibara, bring me the keys to the notice board,” Satoru says, a devious plan already forming in his head.

“What are you gonna do with that boss?” Haibara asks.

“Just bring me the keys, Haibara.” Satoru says, annoyed.

- - - - -

Two mornings later, Haibara comes to Satoru with the news that the coach was not happy with Suguru and had ordered him to jog 200 laps of the school ground - which Suguru accepted without a voice of protest. Satoru feels awful for what he’s done - delivering piss to the coach’s house and labelling it as Ganga Jal (our equivalent to holy water) signed under Suguru’s name. He watches as Suguru sends Ichiji off - who was supposed to watch his laps, but continues jogging around the perimeter of the massive St. Teresa ground.

Seeing bangs accept the punishment he deserves changes something in him, it gives him a moment of introspection, of why he was villainising the new guy so much. Sure, bangs had parked in his spot, but the spot was empty when he came. He got selected in the team, but because he was actually good at the game. He was becoming the teachers’ favourite, but that was because he was polite and performed well with just enough confidence. The girls that usually fawned over Satoru and his guitar and his music, were now fawning over Suguru’s voice and bangs, never missing the chance to admire him - but Satoru shouldn’t care - he already has the prettiest girl on campus - you.

After class, the aspiring rockstar swallows the bitter pill and calls after Suguru, “Hey! Hey!” Suguru doesn’t listen, is too engrossed in his book and continues walking. Satoru’s long legs pick up speed, and he’s power walking to catch up. “Oh hello, I’m talking to you, bangs!”

“My name is Suguru, you know?” Suguru says with an annoyed sigh.

“Yeah, yeah, Suguru,” Satoru dismisses, continuing to walk beside Suguru, who bookmarks his spot in the book before turning to him. “I came here to say thanks for yesterday morning. You didn’t have to save us, you know. I could’ve handled the coach pretty easily.”

“I know, I didn’t want to do it at all either,” Suguru says, his voice level.

“Then why did you do it?” Satoru says, his cool-kid facade falling a bit.

“I was trying to act like Mahatma,” Suguru says, upturning the book he was reading. It was a biography of Mahatma Gandhi. “I wanted to know what Gandhi felt like being so idealistic.”

“You’ve got some loose screws, man,” Satoru incredulously says, motioning the loose screws with his large hands.

“I may have some loose screws, but you don’t have any.” Suguru deadpans.

“Very funny,” the white haired man scoffs. “You did listen to my dad, I suppose that is bound to make some impact on you.”

“You know, your dad isn’t crazy, he’s a little crooked,” Suguru says. “Which is a good thing, no one reaches that level of money without being at least a little crooked.”

“Show some respect to Gandhi in your hands, man,” Satoru teases, taking the book from him. “The gods made a silly mistake, you should’ve been my father’s son.”

“Why do you care so much about your father?” Suguru says, taking back the Gandhi biography from him, his thin dark eyebrow raised.

“I don’t care for my father or my mother,”

“You do, you’re seeking validation from them.” Suguru observes. “But it seems like all you get from them is money.”

“Wow, and now you’re an expert in parents’ philosophy, right?” Satoru dodges the accusation that hit just a bit too close.

Suguru looks away, the confident demeanour shaking as he says in a small voice, “I am, now that they’re gone.”

“What do you mean gone, are they on a vacation?” Satoru asks, genuinely confused.

“They’re dead,” Suguru says with an accepting sigh. Satoru stops in his tracks, wanting the earth to swallow him whole in that moment - how could he be so stupid and insensitive? “Quit the dramatics, man, yours are alive.”

“You fucker,” Satoru says, a chuckle escaping him. “You motherfucker,” Suguru smirks, accepting the insincere swearing. Satoru’s blue eyes gleam with laughter and he pats his new friend’s chest and says, “Let’s go to the cafeteria. It’s time for me to meet my girlfriend,”

- - - - - - - 

You’re on your way to the cafeteria, enjoying your conversation with Shoko about the newest phone on the market when your good mood is soured by Tanya strutting in your direction, her hefty handbag seemingly weighing her down. Her friends follow her, but you don’t pay attention to them as Tanya comes to a stop in front of you, her head tilted up to look at you and a qualifier smile on her face.

“Have you heard who became the head cheerleader for this term?” Tanya teases, her annoying smirk never leaving her face. “It's Tanya Israni,” She eggs you on, frustrated by the calm smile on your face. “You must be so upset, because this position is only given to the most popular girl of the school,” 

“I’m so happy for you Tanya,” You cooly say, stepping a little closer to her. “Good for you honestly,” You cheer her on, enjoying the confused look on her face. Shoko snickers behind you, fighting the laughter from her face. “You know, it’s really not my style to take pom-poms in my hands and scream and dance to catch men’s attention. I much prefer it if they notice me and try to catch my attention, you know. So, I’m so happy you got to be the head cheerleader.”

You pat her shoulders and walk away, Shoko hot on your heels. 

At the cafeteria, you’re met with Satoru, your pretty boyfriend, who whips out his guitar and sings a song in your praise, and you eat it all up. It’s been quite a while since you’ve got his attention to himself - with bangs taking up most of his time and energy. You bask in the attention he gives you, eyes not missing bangs and the way his mysterious eyes linger on you as if trying to decipher you.

“All the attention on me suddenly?” You ask Satoru, taunting his last few months of hoeing around. “Are you sick? Or did you finally fix yourself?”

“I’m getting back on track,” He jokes, putting his arms around you.

“Or maybe you just want the world to know that she is still dating you,” Shoko teases. She isn’t a fan of Satoru, but she especially hates him now that he’s started taking you for granted.

“There she is, my competition,” Satoru gently punches Shoko’s shoulder, laughing. “Shoko, did you miss me?”

“In your dreams, Satoru,” Shoko shrugs his hand off, taking a whiff of her cigarette. “Besides, your competition is right here. Suguru, right?”

Suguru nods in acknowledgement as Satoru easily orders Yu around.“Haibara, go get chairs for the girls,” 

“Ah, so you’re Suguru,” You say, raising your brow, scrutinising him.

“You’re saying as if you never noticed me,” He deadpans.

“I only saw you, noticing is totally different,” You say, pushing your hair out of your face. “Anyways, I’ve got to run to class now, Satoru. I’ll see you later.” You kiss his cheek and wave at Suguru then grab Shoko and rush to class. Suguru’s dark eyes follow your figure as you leave, trying to see under your rudeness.

“Don’t even think about it, Suguru,” Satoru warns. “That’s my girlfriend.”

“Well, good for you that she’s not my type then,” Suguru says, turning to his friend. “Besides, I have different plans.”

“I don’t care about your plans,” Satoru says, practically radiating with excitement. “I’m just happy that there’s finally someone who can match me.” He then shakes his head and leaves, fixing his glasses on the way out. Haibara returns with the chair, giving an odd look to Suguru, who rolls his eyes and walks away. 

- - - - - - - 

Friendships, breakups, jealousy, parties - all of it was a common occurrence at St. Teresa. But every other weekend, everyone got a reality check - when they went back to their homes.

At the Gojos back in Delhi, Isamu and Akihiko, Satoru’s older brother, were discussing the stock market and the impact of the changing polls on their organisation over dinner, disregarding himself and his mother. Satoru still tries to bond with them, trying to put forth some of his opinions, “Dad, I think-”

“You think?” Isamu taunts. “Since when did that happen?”

“Satoru, leave the thinking to us intellectuals,” Akihiko says. “You focus on your music, that’s what you have talent for, no? I’ll need your help finalising the music for the sangeet function at my wedding, you know. You can think about that. Leave the thinking about the stock market to us.”

Meanwhile at your residence - your mom and her latest husband discuss the gossip of people you couldn’t care less about. How that couple treated your mother, how the woman blatantly ignored her kind words of advice, how she had a horrible taste for the interior of her house - the same old, same old.

“I’m pregnant,” You abruptly say, trying to steer the conversation to some other direction.

“What did you say young lady-” Your mother starts, and your newest step father looks nearly as aghast as you mother.

“I’m kidding,” you say, rolling your eyes with a defeated sigh. “Please continue,”

Back in Dehradun, Suguru sits for dinner with his family - his Chacha, Chachi, cousins and Dadi, mustering up the courage to finally ask for some pocket money for a chemistry project.

“Suguru, everything alright in school?” His uncle asks.

“Yeah, Chachu, everything’s great.” He bites his lip then finally says, “Chachu, actually I needed some money for a chemistry project-”

“Right,” His Chachi intervenes. “Of course, Mr. Ambani, could you please give him some money from your endless bank account?”

His Dadi beats his Chacha to it, saying, “I’ll give you the money,” then she adds. “There’s a little less salt in the food, but okay I’ll manage.”

- - - - - - - -

With Monday, everything is back to normal. There’s a change in the daily life in Saint Teresa now that Satoru and Suguru have become friends, their friendship quickly becoming one of the best the college has ever seen. 

The football team is practising for the yearly match with Saint Lawrence, a match that has been won by their competitors for an unbeatable record of 24 years. Dean Yaga hopes that this will change with this batch, the wonderful players he has got and even more wonderful Coach of theirs.

Coach is in a serious dilemma watching the team practice. Both Satoru and Suguru are brilliant players and would make great captains - but the custom is to have only one captain in the team. Making one captain in favour of another isn’t something he is considering, too much has already happened between the two before they started behaving civilly. 

“Yu Haibara!” Coach calls. “You’re the football team captain for this term.”

Haibara, standing between Suguru and Satoru, is startled at first, then he celebrates with delight. The two friends on either side of him share a smile, accepting their unassigned-assigned co-captaincy of the team.

On the day of the much awaited match, you, Shoko, and Kento take your spot in the bleachers, while Tanya and her cheer squad stand right by the field. Your boys in blue and your opponents in red - the two teams come out of the stands and shake hands before taking positions for the game.

It’s a mess right when it starts - the boys in blue are too defensive, but they are too focused on not letting them score, where they miss the chances to snatch the ball away from them which ultimately led to a goal. Twice before halftime. Standing at an embarrassing 2-0, your side sulks and accepts defeat, ready to lose to Saint Lawrence for the 25th time in a row.

But after the half time, your boys in blue have gone from defensive to offensive, never letting the ball pass to the opposing team in red - keeping the ball to themselves. For a moment the ball goes to the red team, but Satoru is deft to act and snatches the ball away from them with a couple of his antics, not violating any rule of the game. He scores the first goal of the match for the blue team. From the humiliating 2-0 the score was now up to a less embarrassing 2-1. Your side erupted in cheers, and you were perhaps the loudest.

The next goal is just as swift, but this time it's Suguru running with the ball, easily distracting their goalie and scoring a goal. The game is now at a tie of 2-2.

The next time, Yu manages to snag the ball from the red players and then passes the ball to Suguru who keeps two of the red defenders occupied while he pretends to go for the goal and kicks the ball to Satoru whose deft attacks give Saint Teresa the final goal of the match - and the first victory after 25 years. 

The team and the bleachers erupt in cheers, and the new friends and teammates share a hug. They’re jumping on the field, looking at each other with newfound respect and admiration. Suguru’s dark bangs stick to his forehead and Satoru’s white hair drips sweat down to the grass, which he is quick to wipe with the front of his jersey. The girls nearly lose their minds, but his attention is elsewhere.

“Don't kiss me now,” Suguru teases Satoru, yelling over the crowd.

“I won’t even hug you,” Satoru says as he envelopes Suguru in a bear hug, both of them feeling the sheer joy of winning and making their college proud.

Satoru takes Suguru back home to Delhi after their match to celebrate - the lavish mansion with servants at every beck and call leaving a scanning Suguru further steeling his resolve for his success, the only thing he joined Saint Teresa for. Satoru introduces Suguru to his mother, who seems like a meek, kind woman. Suguru holds his hands together in a namaste before her.

“Your father was asking for you, Satoru,” His mother says, wrapping her saree over her free arm.

“Why, is he unwell?” Satoru sarcastically asks, but follows his mother nonetheless, dragging Suguru along.

“Dad this is S-”

“Suguru Geto, I know,” Isamu Gojo shakes his hand as soon as he hangs up the call. “I’ve heard a lot about you, son. You are a popular name among teachers. I hope your determination rubs off on him too.” The way Isamu talks about his own son, his flesh and blood makes Suguru uncomfortable, but as usual he maintains his air of calm confidence.

“Uncle, but today’s victory is all thanks to Satoru, you know.” Suguru says. “If he hadn’t made the goal -”

“Oh really, I didn’t know you were capable of anything outside of playing that damned guitar.” the older white haired man taunts. Satoru grits his teeth, eyes narrowing behind his round sunglasses.

“He doesn’t appreciate it,” Satoru says, voice bitter. “Especially if it’s me,”

“If you want to hear compliments so bad, do something that matters,” Isamu challenges. “Win that Student Of the Year trophy, then we’ll talk.”

“What's the point in winning the trophy, you won't be happy then either,” Satoru says.

“It’s not about me being happy, it’s about ambition,” Isamu says, turning to Suguru, more welcoming of him than his own son. “You tell me, Suguru, would you win the Student of the Year trophy?”

“That trophy is mine sir,” Suguru says with his signature confidence, his voice smooth and even. “Now we just have to wait for it to get home,”

“That’s the spirit,” Isamu says, patting the dark-haired man’s shoulders. “I’m happy to hear that. Maybe some of your influence will rub off on Satoru with time. Now tell me, where do you see yourself in the future?”

“As you,” Suguru says, then seeing the creased brow, he elaborates on their similarities - small town kids growing up with low money, then taking the market by a storm with sheer force of will and strategic decisions. “Maybe even a bigger business tycoon than you.”

“Now this is ambition,” Isamu says, beaming with pride. “I love your confidence, my son. Maybe not everyone wants to play a guitar now.”

“Let’s go Suguru,” He says, eager to leave his golden cage.

(Vele)

Delhi’s buzzing nightlife is where Satoru takes him for their celebration. Even though it’s just the two of them, Suguru feels strange seeing his friend interact with everyone. Of course, he was familiar with the nightlife, but he’s always been there to work, never to enjoy. Satoru with his fluffy white hair and bright blue eyes and charming words is popular among the crowd - both the men and the women. It takes him some time - a couple days - to loosen up and feel the music.

Satoru is pressing up behind a giggly woman, his signature smirk on his lips and his glasses down just enough to tease the pretty colour of his eyes. He easily moves with her, going beyond just casually dancing with her. Suguru is entertaining a girl as well, but he’s not much into it - he isn’t fond of meaningless connections.

In the morning, they get a smoke - Satoru is so different from his night self - zoned out and blue eyes droopy with a longing. “Suguru… do you miss your parents?” he suddenly asks.

Suguru takes a moment to process the question, flashes of his happier times passing in his head. “Hmm, I do,” He says, nodding.

“Me too,” Satoru says, eyes focused on something and nothing at the same time.

Come the night, Satoru is back to his womaniser self - this time having two women splayed over him rather than just one. Suguru’s mind suddenly flashes your pretty face, and he wonders if you’d approve of his behaviour. He’s disgusted by Satoru’s behaviour, how he’s an attentionwhore but is not letting you go either. He might be too poor to understand your setup, he thinks.

The next night, they’re back on campus and the whole school is celebrating at the nearest club - Satoru is again getting cosy with Tanya, not even noticing you. You’re outraged and want to cause a scene, but you don’t. You don’t know what’s gotten into him in the past year, why he’s been going out and letting women get so close to him. Why did he need this much attention? Why couldn’t you leave him? You go to the bar, and to your surprise, Bangs is the one to notice your sulking self and he gets you shot. The two of you down the bitter drink, and he flashes his. And for some reason, you find yourself smiling even when he’s gone.

The next weekend, Suguru and Satoru are back in Delhi, smoking at their usual spot when Suguru finally asks him, “Do you love her?”

“I’m a little confused,” Satoru admits, looking down.

“About her?” Suguru asks, brow creased.

“About love,” Satoru admits, looking down at his phone.

“Are you gay?” Suguru asks incredulously.

Satoru chuckles, pulling Suguru close with his shirt. “Yeah, I am come here,”

“Oi, shut up!” Suguru smacks him away, laughing.

By the night, Satoru is too drunk, and Suguru drives the blue Ferrari back to the lavish Gojo house, picks up his drunk friend and drops him on his bed. Satoru mumbles at him to stay the night. Suguru too is exhausted, and he’s out like a lightbulb almost as soon as he drops to the bed. In the morning, the loud blaring of an electric guitar in an unfamiliar but upbeat tune wakes him up. Suguru goes to the balcony and sees the Gojo family, minus Satoru having breakfast and decides to join them.

“Good morning Uncle, Good morning Aunty,” Suguru greets them. “We got late last night so Satoru asked me to stay,”

“That’s alright my son, come sit with us.” Isamu says, motioning to the empty chair. “You’re listening to what we have to put up with every morning? Our little maestro is practising,”

“I was thinking I'd ask him for music recommendations for my sangeet but listening to this, I was terribly wrong.” Akihiko says. “It’s just noise.”

“Yeah, son, Akihiko is getting married, you should join us.” Isamu says. “Yu, Yaga, Coach, Tanya and the girl who is too good for Satoru, they're all coming.”

“Satoru didn’t say anything about-” Suguru reluctantly says.

“Yeah, he isn’t invited yet,” Isamu and his oldest laugh at his joke. “No need to worry about tickets and stay, we’ll go via our jet and there’s accommodation for everyone, my son.”

“Thank you, sir.” Suguru says, his smile reserved. He cannot fathom why Isamu antagonises his own flesh and blood this much. Satoru arrives as Isamu and Akihiko leave, and they don’t leave without a taunt. “Mr. Gojo just invited me to your brother’s wedding,” Suguru says, taking a sip of the orange juice as Satoru sits down next to him.

“Wow, maybe he’ll write your name in his will too,” Satoru says, rolling his eyes.

“That’s the plan,” Suguru teases.

“Remember, the dad comes with the property,” Satoru warns, mocking his father.

“With a bank balance like that I’ll handle everyone,” Suguru jokes, and Satoru just shakes his head, unaware of his own privilege.

- - - - - - 

The wedding party lands in Thailand with much pomp - the first day they only relax and enjoy Thailand. Your mood is sour again - Satoru spent the whole flight flirting with Tanya and enjoying her advances, letting her touch him in ways that only you should be able to. On top of that Shoko wasn’t there, and now you had to spend the entire weekend with this.

When you land, Tanya starts enquiring about the luggage, to which you say, “Didn’t all of your clothes fit in your handbag?” and Satoru has the nerve to get mad at you - telling you that you should mind your tongue.

“Welcome to Thailand,” Bangs says, when he crosses you.

Later, you go to the resort’s beach, hoping to finally get some time with Satoru - only to see him lying on Tanya’s lap as she smothers his chest in sunscreen. Your sour mood turns bitter, and you go back to your room, eyes threatening to spill. But you take a few deep breaths, trying to calm yourself down. Was it so easy for him to let loose after four years of being your boyfriend? Was he no longer attracted to you? You ponder with the thought of leaving him, but you don’t want to give him up - you love him, you think, and you don’t want your four years to go to waste.

Unbeknownst to you, bangs was feeling similar towards Satoru’s dismissal of you - seriously questioning his friend as to why he was even looking at other girls with you by his side. If it were up to Suguru and he had a girlfriend as amazing and pretty as you, he wouldn’t even look at other women.

The next morning, you see Satoru with Tanya - whose shrill voice is just a pitch lower than a moan. She’s massaging his back and letting out sounds which can only be described as ones of pleasure. You know about pleasure, of course - but you don’t sound that obnoxious.

“Should I massage your neck, while she massages your back?” You ask Satoru, voice sickly sweet. He takes off his glasses, blue eyes narrowed in annoyance and pushes his fluffy hair away from his face before acknowledging you. Tanya’s hands get more lecherous, a smirk on her face as her dark eyes meet yours.

“What do you mean?” Satoru asks, sounding almost mad at you.

You don’t back down, saying, “I thought you were too fond of massages,” motioning to the way he was sitting in front of Tanya.

“I’m only helping Satoru release his tension, he’s always so stressed.” Tanya says, her voice artificially shrill and concerned. “See, his back has so many knots.”

“Why don’t you open a massage stall then? Everyone in Bangkok would come to you to release their stress.” You snap at her, the dam breaking.

“That’s enough! Why are you acting so insecure?” Satoru has the audacity to get mad at you, looking down at you with such annoyance that you actually start thinking that you’ve done something wrong. “I’m only chilling with my friends, no? What’s so wrong with that?”

The damn holding your tears back breaks, “There’s nothing wrong, absolutely nothing,” your voice breaks and you rush away, tears spilling.

You stand by an isolated spot, away from everyone’s eyes, letting your tears flow freely. Why is everything going wrong between you and Satoru? Did he not love you anymore? Did he ever love you? You can hear Shoko’s voice, telling you to leave him, that you deserve someone so much better than him. If he does all of that in front of you, what’s to say what he does behind your back? She had said.

Suddenly, Bangs is standing beside you, and you’re quick to wipe away your tears. You don’t want to see Satoru’s sidekick come and lecture you - you’ve had enough of that from Haibara, and you don’t want to hear the same thing from bangs. “So typical of Satoru,” You say, voice nasal from all the crying. “He can’t come face me himself, so he sends his sidekick to wipe my tears.”

“Firstly, I’m no one’s sidekick,” Bangs says, handing you a white handkerchief. It has a small back embroidery of his initials. “Secondly, I’m not here to wipe your tears, you’ve got a runny nose.” You take the white muslin cloth and quickly wipe your nose. “You’re the classy type, it doesn’t suit you.” For a moment you think that he’s talking about Satoru, but you’re quick to dismiss the thought. “Now that I’m here, do you want to tell me what’s happening or sing a lovely song for me?”

You don't look at him, focusing your teary gaze on a random spot in the distance. “I’m so fed up with Satoru,” You hate the way your voice sounds nasal, giving away just how much everything was affecting you. You felt weak and exposed, but for some reason you felt you wouldn’t get judgement from Bangs. “I’ve known him for 10 years, been dating him for 4, and from the past year it feels like all of this is a big mistake.”

“Then why not leave him?” Bangs gently suggests, but it sounds more like a genuine question and not a statement.

“I don’t like breaking relationships,” You admit.

“Then do something to get him on the right path,” He says, and you finally look at him, noticing him for the first time.

“How so?” You ask, brow raised.

“Maybe take a wrong path yourself,” He shrugs, the sun hits his shades and bangs perfectly, and you can see the violet of his eyes from this close under the sun. You cross your arms over your chest, a devious plan forming in your head with Suguru’s pretty face in your mind.

(Radha)

In the evening, you decide to take the stage and perform to the song, having coordinated with the music set up and the bride and groom. Akihiko was way too excited to see his brother get put in his place, agreeing to your idea immediately. Everything is a deliberate plan - from your pink blouse to your lehenga skirt and the way it hugs your figure in the most flattering of ways you feel and look hot.

Satoru and Tanya stand in the audience as the music starts to play, stopping the hushed whispers exchanging. Her back is still pressed against his chest, enjoying the warmth he offers. For a change, Satoru has ditched his glasses and is adorning a fancy golden kurta, the colour flattering his pale complexion and white hair. Tanya too is dressed in a sexy golden saree - and they look too much like a couple for your taste. That makes your resolve all the more strong.

Satoru watches with a crease between his white brows seeing a familiar figure on the stage, but her face is veiled by the dupatta, the lighting just dim enough to make the face of the girl a mystery. The music starts to play and when the dupatta veil falls after a few steps to reveal your pretty face - Satoru is stunned. You’re too sexy, all for him to admire. He covers his face, part astonished, part embarrassed. Tanya grits her teeth, but smiles along when Satoru tells her how pretty you look. Suguru on the other hand, dressed in a lovely navy kurta that compliments his dark hair and pretty eyes, raises his hands and cheers you on.

Much to Satoru’s surprise while dancing to the music, instead of coming to him in the crowd, you go to Suguru. An indescribable feeling climbs up his throat at the sight of you dancing and enjoying with his best friend - your steps complimenting each other so well. Tanya tries to distract him, and for a while he is distracted. Until he sees you again - you’re coming toward him so he pushes Tanya out of your way - but you only push him in a mix of playfulness and annoyance and return to Suguru. 

Satoru, being the rockstar that he is, easily catches the beat of the music and is able to keep up with your practised steps, trying to get closer to you.

For a moment, the three of you are dancing together, but you lean more toward your boyfriend’s best friend - disregarding him as he has been disregarding you. Somewhere with the music, your Dean Yaga takes up the Dafli and surprises everyone with how well he plays the instrument. You, Satoru and Suguru join him on the stage, and Yaga turns into a blushing mess with all the compliments. 

Suguru is surprised to have you dancing this close to him, even with your dance performance over and the DJ being open for everyone. He pushes you away when you get a bit too close, for perfume all up in his nose and your pretty, decorated eyes looking up at him with such affection. He grabs your shoulders and pushes you back a little when you get too close again - worried about all the eyes on him and you - he doesn’t want to cause a scene. He can feel Satoru’s burning gaze on the two of you and he does not like that.

When you get too close a couple more times, he’s finally had enough and grabs your arm to take you away from the crowd, brows creased and a scowl on his face. Suguru doesn’t like this spark that ignites inside him with your pretty face and sweet voice and lovely outfit. He shouldn’t feel this way about you - you’re his best friend’s girlfriend, after all.

“What do you think you’re doing?” His yell isn’t loud, but his voice is scolding.

But the playfulness doesn’t leave your eyes, and you look at him as if he should be in on some secret that he isn’t in on. “You only said to take the wrong path,” you say, a teasing smile on your lips, enjoying the frustrated expression on his usually stoic confident face. “What’s a better wrong path than you?”

“Don’t be stupid, girl,” He scoffs. “Satoru is my best friend,”

“That’s why you’re perfect.” You explain, and your pretty eyes are such a tease, Suguru thinks. “You’re helping your friend by saving his relationship, and I know you won’t try to take advantage of me. Maybe we’ll also become friends by this. It’s not a bad thing, you see. Right?” You put your hands on his crossed arms, your bangles clinking as you try to shake him into agreement

His purple eyes gaze at you for a long moment, and you pretend to fix your bangles, feeling flustered under his steady gaze. You didn’t want to make a fool out of yourself if he refused your offer.

“You’re not as stupid as you seem,” Suguru has a rare, genuine smile on his face, calm, steady voice returning. “So… What’s the plan?”

You look up at him with a child-like smirk, twirling your dupatta between your fingers. “Now we’re talking,” you say, then you drag him away.

Unbeknownst to you, Satoru’s eyes have been following the two of you and he didn’t know he was capable of feeling such jealousy - until he saw you with Suguru - perhaps the only man who can compare to him. He cannot hear the words you exchanged, but the ways you looked at each other spoke louder to him than any words ever could. Have you ever looked at him like that? Like the way you teasingly looked up at Suguru, batting your pretty eyes at him?

The next morning, Satoru is lying in the sun on the beach, with Tanya sitting behind him, lotion in her hand. He sat up straight on seeing you, eyes peeled and sunglasses off - you’re so hot in a yellow and honey coloured bikini - hair wet from the time you had spent in the water. The sun makes your skin glow like the goddess that you are, trying not to laugh at the way your boyfriend’s jaw has dropped, the girl sitting behind him long forgotten. Satoru half raises his hands, wanting you to sit with him. It’s comical the way both their heads turn when you go past him to Suguru, who was casually laying in the sun, shades on his eyes and reading a business magazine.

“May I sit here?” You ask the pretty guy with the bangs, voice deliberately sultry.

“Yeah, sure,” He says, putting down the magazine and sitting up to make space for you behind him. Satoru and Tanya have extremely confused expressions plastered on their faces, and Satoru looks like a kicked puppy his blue eyes narrowed and lips pouty that you almost let up the act. Almost.

You sit behind him, sure to make your curves stand out just a bit more, fixing your hair to one side. You let out a small gasp, touching Suguru’s toned shoulders over his shirt. “Oh dear, you seem so stressed,” you say in the same sultry voice. “May I help in releasing all this tension of yours?”

“Please,” Suguru says with a sigh, head turned away from Satoru but towards you. You try to ignore the way his voice affects you. But can’t really blame yourself - his already nice voice is now deliberately sinful. You pull his open shirt off his shoulders, admiring his back. You don’t need to pretend to fawn over him, a realisation that disturbs you more than it should.

Taking some lotion in your hand, you begin massaging his back, both of you playing the part well of making noises that sound much like sounds of pleasure - it’s funny the way Satoru suddenly straightens up and Tanya tries to mimic you, trying to get Satoru to make noises similar to the one Suguru was making. The man in front of you sounds incredibly sexy, even if it was just pretend. Your brain begins a thought - if this is how good he sounds when pretending, how much nicer he’d sound with the real - but you stub it before the thought completes.

When Satoru doesn’t make any noises, too focused on the way you’re touching his best friend - the pretty hands that should be touching him instead - Tanya asks him to make some noise, in order to assert some sense of dominance. Satoru lets out a funny noise of complaint, throws his sunglasses in the sand and stalks away.

The two of you giggle and share a high-five, watching the squirming Satoru rush away from you. Your plan was working perfectly.

Later in the evening, you enjoy a stroll on the beach with Suguru, his silky hair down for a change, the wind making it flow in a graceful dance. You’ve never wanted to touch someone's hair this bad ever before, so you reach out and do - his hair is softer than any fabric you’ve ever touched. Suguru gives you a small smile.

He’s mesmerised by the way your eyes soften, the moonlight making you glow. He’s unaware of everything except you, of how your eyes are looking at him kindly, of how you mentioned having a rough relationship with your mother and never knowing your father, of telling you about the time his parent’s car had crashed, taking them away from him.

“He’s gone,” you whisper, and he’s pulled out the trance your eyes had put him in. “You’re such a nice actor Suguru,” you say, a cheery smile returning to your face. “Let’s go back in now before it gets too dark.”

The next morning, Suguru sips his champagne and watches you with a heavy heart, you look so pretty in your white and gold lehenga, dancing to the music with the mehendi drying on your hands. He’s admiring you from afar - seeing as you spot Satoru and make a sour face at him, then turning around to see him with a bright smile on your face. You mouth to him if she looks okay, and he mouths back that you look fantastic, doing the okay gesture with his fingers and grinning. You’ve accidentally matched - the yellows and oranges of your lehenga matching his kurta. Your focus is diverted back to the music, and your dance is graceful.

“Oi, why are you acting like Romeo all of a sudden?” Satoru says, rolling the sleeves of his light blue kurta, seemingly squaring up. “I’ve been seeing this for two days now. What happened to her not being your type?”

“Well, she is now,” Suguru says, taking a sip from his glass.

“Stay away from her,” Satoru says, brow creased and lips pressed in distaste. 

“And why would I do that?” Suguru challenges, raising a brow.

“She’s my girlfriend-” the white haired man says, blue eyes wide with rage.

“Since when?” Suguru asks, steadily holding his gaze.

“Don’t play with me Suguru,” Satoru says, ready to snap. “I’m being serious,”

“You? Serious?” Suguru notes. “Satoru, your whole problem is that you aren’t serious. You don’t have the time to be serious.”

“What-” Satoru stammers.

“Meaning that - when was the last time you held her hand? Hugged her? Looked into her eyes and spoke to her? Told her that you love her?” Suguru fires the questions straight at his best friend.

“Who even -” Satoru gets defensive all of a sudden.

“Stop acting like a cool dude.” Suguru asserts. Then, with a smirk on his face, he teases, “Seeing her with me made you jealous, right? You were scared, right?” Satoru can only nod, hiding his eyes with his fluffy hair.

“Good, because that was our scheme to bring you back to the right track.” Suguru finally confesses, seeing his disheartened best friend.

“What do you mean scheme,” He began. “You and -”

“Yeah,” Suguru nods. “You aren’t going to find a girl like her, man. I mean just look at her, she is beautiful.” His voice turns softer, serene, “The way she laughs, the way she dramatises things, names fashion designers on little things. She has the brains, the anger, but she has the right too. She lacks love and affection, she wants love. She isn’t too clever, maybe that is why she is in love with you.”

Satoru is truly stupefied by his friend’s assessment of you. “You’re so sweet, Suguru,” he teases, playfulness back in his crystal blue eyes. “You did a PhD on her just to put some sense into me.”

Suguru puts his hands on his friend’s shoulders, encouraging him, “Okay, now go and be nice to her. If you let her go, I’ll catch her.”

Satoru elbows him, saying, “If you do that, I’ll kill you.” He steps away, but a thought bothers him, “Are you sure you dont like her?”

“Her?” Suguru teases. “It’s you-”

Satoru smacks his shoulder, but then pulls him into a hug. He’s so grateful to have a friend like Suguru, how he showed him what he was doing wrong.

The sound of your name from Satoru’s smart mouth has you turning around, and he takes that opportunity to finally wrap his arms around you, muttering, “I’m really sorry baby,”

“Shhh,” you hush him. “It’s said that hiding your boyfriend’s name in your mehendi, if he finds it then it may be a love to last different lifetimes,”

He takes your hand, his blue eyes full of adoration, “Shall I try?”

“Yes,” You snarkily say, taking Tanya’s hand and handing it to him.

And finally he ignores her in favour of you, muttering your name like an apology. You’re not yet done testing him, so you wipe the wet mehendi on his face, smearing his porcelain skin a dark muddy colour.

In the evening, during the wedding ceremony, as the bride enters with her brothers and uncles, you rush - the stubborn jhumki not locking properly. You hastily motion for two more minutes to the other bridesmaids, running and trying to put the jhumki on your right ear at the same time. Fortunately you see Suguru, and show him the state of your jhumki, unable to keep the smile off your face. He thinks you’re adorable like this, annoyed at a stubborn piece of jewellery.

Suguru takes the jhumki from your hand, instead styling your hair in a manner to keep the missing earring hidden. His purple eyes are so expressive in their appreciation of your yellow-gold outfit and makeup - it makes you feel so beautiful. His large hands are gentle on your hair and it comes as no surprise that he was so good at styling your hair. 

You join the bridal party quickly, spotting Satoru, who makes a gesture of heat on seeing you, you return his gesture - but with a throwing-up one. He laughs, but the smile disappears once he sees his father hug his older brother, so full of pride that he’s never seen.

Tanya is quick to snatch the silver tray of rose petals in your hands, and you laugh, running your hands through your hair only to feel your absent jhumki, suddenly remembering Suguru. You turn around, trying to find him, only to see him already looking at you, a pretty smile on his pretty face. You motion him to come closer to the mandap, and when he refuses, you walk over to him and grab a hold of his arm, wanting him to stay close to you. He still refuses, but he has a smile on his face, a smile worth swooning over, you note.

A heavy hand settles on your shoulder, and Satoru’s blue eyes sparkle with a smile as they take you in, wanting you to stay with him. You refuse him at first, not wanting to leave Suguru behind, but when his bangs move as he shakes his head, allowing you to go, you let up in your attempts to get him. Satoru takes you right out of his hands, taking you close to the mandap and sitting behind the bride and the groom.

He has a quiet laugh on his face when you make a face at him, and you cannot recall the last time he had been this nice to you. Pushing that thought behind, you look at the rituals, when Satoru elbows you, telling you without words that soon you’ll be in place of his brother and sister in law. You’re quick to dismiss him, too quick, smacking his hand off yours.

- - - - - - - -

After the wedding weekend, Suguru has become a little more distant, only speaking when spoken to. 

Shoko is on her way to class when she sees Suguru’s usually inexpressive eyes filled with a deep longing, only to see you and Satoru in his line of sight. You still hadn’t gotten the time to catch her up to speed, but she cannot mistake the softness of his eyes. You’re sitting on Satoru’s lap, with him making you giggle over something, his white hair all up in your face.

“Hey,” She says, walking up to you and Satoru. You say a cheerful hi, a beaming smile on your face.

“Your boyfriend’s here, baby,” Satoru teases. He gently punches her shoulder, saying, “Hey handsome,”

“Can we do this later?” Shoko asserts. “Come with me,” She tells you. You kiss Satoru’s cheek before getting up and walking out of his earshot with your best friend, curious about what was bothering her.

The sound of your name has your attention, and she begins, “Look, I don’t know what happened between you guys this weekend,” she pauses, looking into your eyes. “But I just saw Suguru, and I think that he likes you,”

“Suguru? Are you mad?” You dismiss her concern with a small shake of your head. “Satoru and I are now stable because of his help,”

“He was staring at you girl,” She says. “Only one-sided lovers look at other people like that,”

“You were also staring at him,” You tease, bumping against her shoulder with a chuckle. “Sorry, you were observing him,”

“Don’t try to act so smart now,” She says, a frown on her face. “I just let you know what I saw, the rest is your choice.” Shoko walks away, leaving you staring at her brown bob.

You think over her words for a moment, and your feet involuntarily take you to Suguru. He was easy to spot in the crowd - his tall stature and his dark bun gave him away easily.

“Good morning, Suguru,” You say, trying to be cheerful.

“Morning,” He acknowledges you, voice back to his indifferent confidence. He’s quickly turning around, not waiting for you.

“Listen!” You call, and he turns to you. “I just wanted to thank you once again…”

“Yeah, it’s not a problem,” He says, quickly turning away once again.

“Suguru…” You say his name, fiddling with your fingers. You don’t know why you feel this nervous. He wouldn’t be the first guy to like you, but then why was your heart beating so furiously, why was your face burning. “Is everything fine? Like between the two of us?”

“No, nothing is fine,” Suguru says, fully turning to you. His cold indifference hurts you more than you’d like to admit. It hurts in a way different from Satoru’s indifference. His indifference makes you mad, but Suguru’s detached voice makes you sad. You don’t know if it's a good thing or a bad one.

You suddenly feel the need to explain yourself for some reason, words coming out with a stammer, which was unlike yourself. “Suguru, I love Satoru,”

“I know,” He says, his voice even. “Are you telling that to me or yourself?” Your taken aback by his question, but before you can answer, he adds, “I came to Saint Teresa with one thing in mind - to make a better future for myself and win that Student of the Year trophy… got distracted for a bit, but now I see my goal crystal clear, and no one can come between me and the trophy now.”

The Competition

Dean officially announces the SOTY competition open: four phases and eight finalists and one winner. Starting from the aptitude exam, to the treasure hunt, the dance competition and the final triathlon - the competition is meant to judge the students on all grounds, and only the one who is the best at everything wins.

Everyone is spending their every waking minute preparing for the aptitude assessment in their own way - hiding the fact that they are studying from their friends. You pretend to read Vogue instead of your textbooks, Shoko pretends to sleep but holds up a torch in her comforter to read. Nanami stacks books on top of books, the ever studious man of the school. Satoru pretends to compose music but he’s actually going through his statistics notes, with you helping him with his coffee and providing motivation to each other to study. Suguru has grown a little more detached from your circle, but he doesn’t hide the fact that he is preparing for the exam. Tanya is spending her time preparing - to cheat, that is, making her settings with the nerds. Haibara tries to mug everything up, but finally gives up and starts focusing on his prayers instead.

Come the time of the result announcement - all of you make it to the top sixteen, moving on to the next round -  the treasure hunt. To everyone’s surprise - Tanya makes it into the top 16, with the 16th position, Satoru makes it to the 10th spot, you make it to the 6th, Shoko makes it to the 4th, Suguru to the 3rd, Nanami to the 2nd. But to everyone - even Dean Yaga who was announcing the result, he had to take his glasses off and read correctly - it was Yu Haibara of all people that got the 1st position. Nanami nearly lost his mind, with Ichiji having held the blond man back to stop him from attacking Yu right there.

Once the gang's all outside, Kento grabs Haibara by the collar of his blazer and demands, “How the fuck did you get first?” 

“I don’t know, I just said Jai Mata Di and marked all the answers,” Haibara says.

“Nanami, stop being such a drama queen,” Satoru complains. “All that matters is that all of us are in the top 16 now. What does it matter who wins or loses?”

“It matters,” Suguru says, volunteering in a conversation involving someone other than Satoru for the first time in days. “We have big intentions, and you have an affluent dad. You can easily join any university per your choice… We don’t have that privilege.”

“You’re after my dad so much,” Satoru says, making gestures with his hands. “Please take my dad and give me your intentions instead.”

Suguru just shakes his head at that, but Tanya intervenes with her sultry voice, “If you want my intentions,” she twirls her hair. “I’ll happily give them to you.”

You can feel Satoru’s hand raise, but you push it down by his shoulder, yet he still manages to blow a kiss in her direction. “The entire college knows of your intentions, Tanya,” You say, pushing down your boyfriend’s hand which blows a kiss at her yet again despite your efforts. “We’re drifting off topic here. We were talking about the competition and I believe there shouldn’t be any competition among friends. Right, Shoko?”

“Right…” Shoko says. “That’s why you were hiding when you were studying?” Satoru pushes you away, but you still hold his arm. Shoko continues, “Come on guys, if our goal is the same, there will be a competition,”

Satoru makes a pouty face, hissing to tease her,“Shoko, does that mean to win the competition yourself, you’ll make your best friend face defeat?”

“Yes,” Suguru says without hesitation, and all heads turn to him. “Perhaps,”

“He’s kidding,” Satoru chuckles, but Suguru doesn’t add to that, turning the pages of his book instead.

A couple days later, the top 16 after the aptitude test got to the fun part - the treasure hunt involving the entire campus. Four teams of four members each.

Suguru, Haibara, you were in one team, Team A; Satoru, Nanami, Shoko and Tanya in Team B and the rest were divided into two other teams. Taking their first clue, the teams rushed to solve the riddle to get to their respective locations. 

Suguru opened the clue card, reading out the riddle: Neela Asmaan Upar bhi Neela Asman Neeche bhi, paana hai jawab, toh gehrayi me jaao janab. (Blue sky above, blue sky below too, If you want to get the answer, then go deep sir.)

Haibara whines on hearing the riddle, snatching the envelope and scanning it as if to see any answer that maye have been hidden. “Yaar, what does this clue even mean? How can there be a sky up and sky below too? The first clue itself has our hopes running in the water,”

“Haibara, you’re a genius!” Suguru says, grabbing the brunet’s shoulders and shaking him.

“Really?” Haibara beams, before Suguru yells, “No!” leaving him confused. Suguru takes off, leaving the three of you to chase him with your shorter legs.

Meanwhile, Satoru opened Team B’s first clue and read out the riddle: Atit ki muskaan hai ajit ki pyaari, Nazron se peechha kare, adbhut hai ye naari. (The smile of the past is Ajit's beloved, follows you with her eyes, this woman is amazing.)

“Who’s this Ajit?” Nanami asks. frowning. “Any faculty member?”

“No, it’s not a faculty member,” Satoru says, thinking hard. 

“I only know one Ajit (Ajit Khan),” Nanami says, and Satoru catches up. The both of them simultaneously say, “Mona darling, sona kahan hai?” (Mona darling, where’s the gold? - an iconic dialogue)

“Anywhere,” Tanya says in her sultry voice, playing with her hair. She’s just happy to be part of Satoru’s team.

“That’s it!” Shoko screams. “It’s the Mona Lisa!” and the four of them take off running to find the room with the Mona Lisa.

In the meantime, Suguru reaches the swimming pool, where you, Haibara and your fourth teammate frown, when Suguru recites the riddle again and deciphers it to be the swimming pool. He’s quickly taken off his shoes, socks and t-shirt and jumps into the pool, finding the next clue at the bottom.

You open the clue as Suguru puts his shirt and shoes back on. The clue reads: Ped bhi hu aur nahi bhi, baat karo toh sunu bhi, khoobsurat hu aisi mai, ke baat kare guru bhi (I am a tree and I’m not, if you talk then I listen, I’m so beautiful, that the teacher also talks to me)

“Tree, the plantations?” Haibara suggests and the four team members rush from the swimming pool to the plantations.

Team B finds Mona Lisa in the assembly hall, a brick with her hair holding the clue. Even Satoru has to jump to fetch that clue. The second riddle read: Farishte ne gaaye zindagi ke geet, asmaan se aayega unka mit, sade nau baje unka milan, jawab degi suraj ki kiran. (The angels sang the songs of life, their friends would come from the sky, meeting at nine thirty, the sun's beam would answer.) 

“Where will we get angels?” Tanya dumbly asks.

Satoru leans close to her, and says in an annoyed voice, “In the canteen,”

“Really?” Tanya says, seemingly believing him.

The answer suddenly strikes Satoru, and he yells out, “The Church, the Church! We have only five minutes to nine-thirty, run!”

It’s hard for Shoko and Tanya to keep up with Satoru and Nanami’s long legs, but they somehow manage. They reach the church just in time - and the sun beam is falling on the Hymn Book of the choir. Satoru is quick to snatch the clue out of the book, and reads: aakhri padav aakhri mystery, kitni majboot hai aapki chemistry (Last stop, last mystery, how strong is your chemistry)

“Let’s go, chemistry lab!” Satoru yells, and Team B rushes away.

“Wait, wait!” You yell, stopping your teammates. “It said tree so we rushed here, but there is no guru visible!”

“Yaar are we looking for this guru or the plant?” Haibara asks.

“We’re looking for the clue,” Suguru deadpans.

“I’m telling you this is not working,” You pant out.

“If you have any other bright idea why don’t you share it with the class?” Suguru says, annoyed.

“Why are you being so mean?” You snap.

“Yeah, man, leave bhabhi alone,” Haibara says, at which Suguru snaps even worse than he did at you. “Abey! Bhabhi hogi teri.” (idk how to write this in english)

“Who is the guru on this campus?” You ask, catching your breath.

“Waheguru?” Haibara prompts.

“We don’t have a Gurdwara on campus, Yu!” You say, frustrated.

“Well, there should be one!” Haibara protests.

“Take that up with Yaga!” Suguru says.

“That’s it!” You jump, clasping your hands as if releasing them would take your answer away. “The guru is Yaga! He’s famous for talking to his bonsai plant!” Then you all rush off to Dean Yaga’s office, finally finding your third clue. You snap the envelope open as Suguru lifts up the bonsai plant, and quickly start reading out loud: aazad hindustan ki peheli awaaz, khamosh kamra batayega yeh raaz. (The first voice of independent India, a silent room will tell this secret.)

“The silent room! It’s the library,” Suguru yells and all of you run to the library.

“Nanami, fast, grab the envelope!” Shoko yells. Satoru beats him to it, opening it only to find a blank envelope.

“What man, Nanami, it's blank!” Satoru gets frustrated and shoves the envelope to Nanami.

“I’m sorry on behalf of the organisers!” Nanami snaps back.

Shoko snatches the envelope from Nanami, shushing the two idiots up. “Let me think,” she says.

“Now what exactly are we looking for?” Haibara asks once you are in the library.

“Independent India's first voice…” you mumble trying to recall your history lesson. “It was Nehru,” you remember. 

“Tryst with destiny!” Suguru suddenly remembers, and the four of you rush to the history section.

“You were right, Shoko!” Nanami says, rubbing the ammonia solution on the black envelope. “The ammonia makes the ink visible!”

“Okay okay, now what does it say?” Shoko asks, jumping with excitement.

The final clue is same for everyone, the riddle saying: khush toh bohot hoge tum ki yeh hai aakhri padav, savere waali ghanti se paar hoga yeh chadav, dhyaan se padhna isko aur dena apna sujhav, kyunki upar waale alfaz karenge jeet ka chunav. (You will be very happy that this is your last stop, this climb will be crossed by the morning bell, read this carefully and give your suggestion, because the above words will choose the victor.)

“The morning bell?” Haibara mutters. “Our period bell?”

Team A runs from the library, climbing up the stairs to try and reach the period bell. On their way, they spot Team B, already higher up in the floors, closer to the period bell of the school. Suguru, Haibara and you find the step ladder and pull it near to the bell, and Haibara quickly climbs up the ladder as you and Suguru hold on to it for stability. Meanwhile, Nanami has taken to walking on the roof instead of taking the normal path, surprising everyone.

Soon it’s a race between Nanami and Haibara, and Haibara wins, striking the bell first. Just then, Ichiji comes and yells, “It's the wrong answer!”

“Oh! Oh! It’s the bell tower!” You yell, excited as you realise the answer. Suguru tries to shush you, but you yell again, “It’s the bell tower!”

“Thanks, bestie!” Shoko yells from above, and the next chase is between you and her, and she is faster. From the lecture building to the bell tower it’s a hard chase, and you’re already too out of breath, so Shoko manages to climb the stairs more swifty than you can. You reach the top just as Shoko rings the bell, only to be told that this answer is wrong as well.

Both your teams have gathered back in the ground, with all eight minds thinking over the riddle over and over. Aaj khush toh bohot hoge tum, Suguru and Satoru seemingly share a brain cell and think of the iconic dialogue of the movie Deewaar. In the scene of the dialogue, Amitabh Bacchan’s character can be seen ranting to the goddess in a temple.

They both look at each other, spelling out a swear word and sprint off to the in campus temple. They are both fast, but Satoru has an upper hand of not having his drenched pants weighing him down. It’s an intense run down between two best friends having a fun rivalry - running to win rather than to defeat. Satoru takes a head start, but Suguru’s track medals have not been in vain and he manages to outrun Satoru and hit the bell just a moment earlier than Satoru, falling to his knees on the white marble of the goddess Saraswati’s temple, both of them bursting out in laughter and sharing a high five.

After Dean Yaga congratulates Team A and praises Team B’s performance, Satoru puts his hand on Suguru’s shoulder and pats his chest. “Let’s go celebrate, you win, Suguru,” He says, peeking up at him from behind his glasses. “I want to go home with you?”

“Why do you want to go home with me?” Suguru asks, raising his eyebrow.

“I am craving some home-made food,” Satoru says. “Come on, please,”

“You don’t have food at your house?” Suguru teases.

“I’m bored of my home’s room service,” Satoru replies.

Suguru shakes his head, patting Satoru’s shoulder, “Let’s go,”

“The food is fab, Dadi, it’s fab!” Satoru says, quickly gulping down a spoonful of the rajma and rice.

“You should come more often then, son,” Dadi says, a cheerful smile on her old face. She looks amazing for her age - most of her hair is still black and her eyes hold a youthful charm with the wisdom that comes as one ages.

“I had to invite myself, even today,” Satoru chuckles. “Do you know - your grandson isn’t normal. Did he fall as a baby?” Dadi laughs at that, but Suguru’s Chachi makes a sour face. 

“Aye, shut up and eat your food,” Suguru says in his deadpan voice.

“Suguru, that is not the way to speak to guests,” His Chachi chides. She turns to Satoru, putting her hand on his shoulder. “Satoru, son - Can I call you son?” Satoru nods with a spoonful in his mouth. “You look much more charming and handsome in real life than you look in those Page 3 photos,”

Suguru and Dadi share a glance, stifling their laughter at Chachi’s comment. “Save some butter for the chapatis, Geeta.” Dadi scorns.

“Butter is expensive, Mother,” Chachi sneers. “We only have words to work with in this house,”

“We’re shareholders in your dad’s company, Satoru,” His Chacha says, trying to dissolve the tension. “Suguru, you must take some tips of the stock market from him and share it with me,” he chuckles. “Let us benefit from your friendship,”

“I’ll make use of his friendship,” Suguru says with a smile, holding Satoru’s gaze. It is a smile shared between friends, meaning unknown to others. “I’ll use him to my benefit so much that I’ll leave him behind,”

“Of course, you should buy the Taj Mahal,” Chachi snaps, her voice ringing in everyone’s ears. “Dreams don’t need any money,”

“Dreams are for duffers like me,” Satoru suddenly says, unable to stand the way Suguru’s Chachi speaks to him. “Suguru is a blue-chip investment. He will make you guys millionaires. You’ll see,”

Suguru’s dark eyes are filled with such adoration and respect for Satoru - for he has never had a friend believe in him this much. His support meant the world to Suguru, and he thinks that maybe letting people get close to him isn’t too bad.

He walks Satoru to the door, calling after him before he manages to get to his blue Ferrari. “What you said in front of Chachi, it felt nice,” Suguru says in a small voice, hands shoved in his jeans pocket and eyes on the grass. “Felt like my own person was saying it,” When he looks up to meet Satoru’s blue eyes, he adds in a teasing voice, “I didn’t know Mr Gojo’s useless son had this talent,”

“Yeah roast and compliment me in the same sentence,” Satoru shakes his head with a smirk. “Is that how you say thanks?”

“Okay, I’ll say it,” Suguru inhales a deep breath. “Thank you,”

“Thanks,” Satoru says, nodding as he studies Suguru closely. “Why do you always hide your emotions?”

“Why are you talking like a woman?” Suguru tries to dodge.

“I’m talking about my heart and feelings,” Satoru admits with a sigh. “There’s no one back home who will listen to me, and I don’t think [name] really gets me. So I thought I’ll try to speak to you,”

“I too lack practice in that matter,” Suguru confesses. “Those who listened to me are gone now, and Dadi has hearing aids.”

The two friends chuckle, and Satoru says, “So basically we are in the same situation,” he puts his hands on Suguru’s elbows, adding, “Whatever happens, we will always share it with each other.”

Being a tease is Suguru’s defence mechanism, so he says, “Are you going to kiss me right now?”

“I won’t even hug you,” Satoru punches his shoulder. “Okay, I’ll see you.”

“Suguru!” His Chacha’s voice comes from inside the house. “Call an ambulance - Mom - I don’t know, just call an ambulance, quick!”

Satoru follows them to the hospital, and Dadi is being taken to the critical care unit - the doctor says she had a cardiac arrest. Suguru is following them, worry written all over his pretty face when Chachi suddenly stops him, asking him where he thinks he’s going.

“Dadi-”

“We will look after your Dadi,” Chachi sternly says. “You bring bad luck wherever you go,”

Suguru doesn’t fight back, but the words cut deeper than any superficial wound ever could. As soon as his Chachi turns around, Suguru nearly runs out of the hospital, Satoru hot on his heels, calling after him. He tries to console him, but Suguru only pushes him off.

“Suguru,” Satoru says, hugging him despite his protests. He returns the hug after a moment, then pulls away quickly feeling the lump in his throat threaten to explode. “Are you okay or do you need another hug?”

Suguru smiles with tears in his eyes, not letting them fall. “I’m okay,”

The next morning, you’re there with flowers in your hands, ready to see Suguru. You wave at him with a small, reassuring smile and a frangipani bouquet in your hands - he’s holding your gaze, and to your surprise, he returns your smile and waves back.

“Suguru, I know you’re mad at me,” You say once you’re close to him. “You don’t even look at me lately, I don’t know what I did wrong but - ”

“I’m not in the mood to listen to your sad rants,” He says, voice breaking. “Dadi is unwell,”

“I know,” You say, exasperated. “That’s why I’m here Suguru.” His eyes hold so much grief and pain in them, and you want to hug him, let him cry on your shoulder and tell him that you’re going to be there for him no matter what - but you refrain. “Are you okay?” you softly ask.

“I’m okay,” Suguru nods, then turns to you, examining your outfit - it’s a short green dress with a low neckline  and a pullover over it, with knee high boots. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, why?” You ask. He eyes your clothes, and you begin to explain, “I know, I know - I don’t have any clothes suitable to come visit the hospital. I am going to go shopping today though.” He is extremely confused and you add, “I want to come here daily, Suguru.”

Suguru’s smile - so full of gratitude and his usually stoic eyes full of tears - welcome you and you take that as a step forward. You don’t know why you’re so giddy at him letting you come visit. You never bothered making friends with Satoru’s old friends before coming to Saint Teresa, but right now he’s the farthest thought in your heart when you look at the man in front of you; so vulnerable and needing support, but without the voice to ask for it.

“Happy birth-” You accidentally say while handing him the flowers, then turn away quickly, embarrassing yourself. Why you turn so stupid around him, you have no idea. He makes you nervous, you want to impress him, want him to think that you’re both pretty and smart, that you’re worthy of - what, you don’t know. You fear the answer, so you don’t dwell on it.

(Ishq Waala Love)

You turn around to look up at him, playing your embarrassment off with a confident smile on your face, and Suguru teases a smile at you, putting the frangipani to his chest. 

Walking away, you’re suddenly intercepted by Satoru - he takes you by surprise - wrapping his arms around you with a cheerful greeting of “Hey, baby,” and inhaling the scent of your shampoo. You had completely forgotten about him while you were with Suguru - but the pretty man with his black bangs doesn’t leave your mind while you’re in Satoru’s arms, his white hair tickling your forehead. You push him back a little, trying to put some distance between the two of you as your eyes flit back to Suguru - he’s already looking at you, back to his grieving self.

The next day, you’re back dressed in a yellow and orange suit, strutting to Suguru and Satoru sitting on the bench outside. Twirling the ends of your dupatta between your fingers, you deliberately make a show of ignoring Satoru, batting your eyes at Suguru, saying, “I want to meet Dadi,”

“No,” Suguru says, his voice soft, matching his violet gaze.

“Why?” You ask, brows knitted. “Am I not dressed correctly?”

“Yeah,” Satoru says, his voice is soft but has an edge of laughter. “Let’s go to the mandir?” You narrow your eyes at the laughing duo and stomp away. Satoru follows after you when Suguru tells him to, eyes crinkles with laughter.

Later, you sit beside Suguru when he is with Dadi, who is passed out on the white bed, connected to many machines. The two of you sit in comfortable silence, so close but so far away, too many things clouding your hearts and minds.

You’re sitting between Suguru and Satoru, the three of you drinking coffee and making jokes, when you’ve subconsciously leaned against Suguru, your head on his shoulder, looking up at his pretty smile with a toothy grin of your own. You hold his arm for a moment before coming to your senses and putting a little distance between the two of you. Satoru puts his arm across your shoulder and pulls you close, but his embrace doesn’t bring the familiar warmth. You push him away, annoyed at his lame joke and take the empty cups from both the men, throwing them in the bin.

It's the final time for Dadi, time for everyone to say their goodbyes. Suguru sits outside her room, his tall frame sulking and alone, bangs half trying to hide the pain and sorrow in his eyes. Your heart cries for him, wanting to embrace him, to show him that you will be there for him no matter what, that you care for him and you won’t hurt him.

Suddenly, Satoru is in front of you, caressing your cheek with his gentle touch, fingers roughed up from his guitar, asking if you want to go get coffee with him. It’s like you are suddenly doused in cold water, pushed out of your trance, and you blink rapidly to get a grip on reality before telling Satoru that you aren’t in the mood for coffee. He squeezes your hand with a smile before leaving you.

The sight of Suguru pressing his hands to his eyes has you right back in that trance, chest rising and falling rapidly as you feel his pain. You sit beside him, trying to give him a smile of confidence, but your eyes betray your worry. He returns your smile with a half smile of his own, but his pretty eyes swam with tears, head lowered, bangs hiding his face. You put your hands on his interlaced ones resting on his lap, rubbing small circles on the back of his hand with your thumb. You cannot stand seeing him in such pain, ready to do anything to make him go back to the guy you had met in Thailand, cocky confidence rubbing off on you. You don’t say anything, holding his teary gaze. He gives you another half smile at your comforting touch, and your eyes soften - you have the sudden inexplicable urge to hold him, let him melt into your embrace and cry his eyes out into your chest as you stand between him and this cruel world, caressing his back and kissing the top of his head. His smile falls, and the intensity of his pretty eyes has you rethinking everything, chest rising and falling rapidly as he lets your smaller hand fall between his two large hands, squeezing it.

When Dadi wakes up for a bit, Suguru takes you to see her, and you greet her softly then excuse yourself, giving them some space. You watch from outside the room as he speaks to Dadi, his back to her, shaking from holding back his cries. Dadi says something and he turns to her, holding her hand and breaking down crying, lying beside her as she weakly comforts her sobbing grandson. You’ve started crying with him, wiping your tears only to have them fall out immediately after.

The only good thing to come out of it was the fact that Suguru was with his Dadi when she passed peacefully in her sleep, surrounded by her family.

Suguru had become withdrawn after Dadi, not saying anything, keeping to himself. He barely even spoke to Satoru, and the others didn’t even see him outside of mandatory classes. Even in the classes, the ever active and teacher’s favourite Suguru had stopped answering, zoned out in most classes he attended.

Suguru is in his dorm, putting away his dirty laundry when you walk in the open door, hands held together in front of you. “Satoru’s dorm is a little further ahead,” He says, barely even looking at you.

“I’m here to see you,” You say, voice shaking.

He stills for a moment, his expression bitter. “To give me your condolences?” He forces a smile. “Thank you,”

“Satoru was saying that you don’t want to see anyone,” You start, inhaling a deep breath to keep your voice steady. You step closer to him and his desk as he grabs a book without any particular reason. “Staying alone like this-”

“I have to make a habit of staying alone,” He snaps, voice breaking at the end. It breaks your heart, tears welling in your eyes at his throaty voice. “Everyone who was close to me is gone.” He composed himself a little, adding, “You should stay away, or you’ll die too.”

“You need a friend-” you softly say, your body pulsing with your frantic heart.

“We can’t be friends!” He suddenly raises his voice, and you have to blink back the tears of frustration. You don’t know why his words cut so deeply, you’ve never cared this much about other people - not like you care about Suguru. “You want to be friends with me?” He looks at you for a moment, inhaling a composing breath. “Thank you,” he says in a small voice.

You’re staring at him by standing by his desk, back to you trying not to think about why it was affecting you so much, finding any other thing to make him talk. His pretty hair is messy and unkempt, and you want to take care of him, treat him to all the good things in life. That is when you spot your jhumki - sitting right on his desk at the edge of a mug. You remember that jhumki, the one you had been struggling to put on back in Thailand, and the way that Suguru had touched your hair to hide the missing earring. You remember his touch, his gaze, and how he had agreed to help you save your relationship.

You grab it from his desk, feeling a grin curve your lips. “Please leave,” Suguru says, seeing you around his desk. “I told you I don’t want to see anyone,”

“But Sugu, this jhumki won’t look good on you,” You teasingly say, maintaining an air of innocent confusion. “Not without it’s complete pair,”

Suguru has a pretty smile on his face, one that you are delighted to be the reason for. You purse your lips, looking at his pretty face and messy hair, taking little steps closer to him and finally hugging him like you’ve wished you could for a long time. Much to your delight, he hugs you back, head resting on your shoulder sniffling to hold himself back from crying.

Suguru is the one to pull back from the hug, pushing out the hair that has fallen to your face as you longingly look up at him, his gentle touch making you lose your mind. His large hands fall to your neck, thumb behind your ear as your eyes flit down to his pretty, worried lips then back to his eyes, the delicate touch of his thumb tickling you in just the right way. Heavy breaths fill the little space between you two, leaning closer with your eyes closed until your lips brush against his.

Your hands on his back pull him closer, and one of his hands goes behind your head while the other goes down to your waist, pulling you impossibly closer as your lips move against each other. The familiarity of his touch has your mind short circuiting - his kiss brings a calm security instead of the anxious butterflies, the movement of your lips and tongues filled with such desperate longing - a longing for affection and love rather than lust, the gentle kiss of a lover, worshipping, all consuming and caring. You’ve never been kissed like this before, like you are a prayer, like he is afraid that you’ll disappear as soon as he opens his eyes. It was wrong what you were doing, but then why did it feel so good? So right?

When he pulls back, you want him to kiss you more - you can see it in the sad gleam of his eyes that he doesn’t want to let you go either. His pupils dilated and brows relaxed, it’s a rare sight, and it’s a sight that you’ll never forget.

There’s a shuffling sound behind you - heads turn to the room's door only to find a distraught Satoru - hands fall to your side at the sight of Satoru’s big blue eyes filled with tears, you chase after him as he storms away without a word and you begin to chase after him, calling out his name.

“Satoru, I’m sorry! Listen to me!” You plead.

“Just leave me alone,” He says, throwing his bag. Satoru is out by the common area and there’s a swarm of students surrounding you three at the noise. 

“Satoru, please!” You plead, reaching out to him with your hands raised.

“Just leave me alone and don’t touch me,” He yells. Kicking down a random stack of chairs. 

“Just listen to me, please!” You plead, your voice breaking. You manage to grab his shoulders, but he is quick to push you off, face red and eyes glowering with anger. “Just leave me alone, I said!” He yells, louder this time. Suguru is quick to intervene, only to be pushed away by Satoru. It’s turning into a brawl and you hate it, you hate it so much. You hate your stupid heart, you hate yourself for not listening to Suguru and staying away from him like he asked you too. Your heart aches seeing the sheer heartbreak on Satoru’s face, his usually bright, humorous eyes filled with rage and betrayal and you despise that you’re the cause of it.

“You keep your mouth shut!” Satoru yells, somehow sounding even angrier at Suguru. “You have no class, no civility! I should never have talked to poor people like yourself. I am - was - your best friend, and you’re there kissing my girlfriend?! You are no one’s person!” He is pushing Suguru harder with each word, and Suguru accepts it, not even trying to fight back. He too has tears pooling in his eyes, messy hair falling to his face. “This is why you have no one to call your home.” Satoru’s welled eyes have turned red with rage, and with each shove his anger only seems to grow. “Everyone is dead! You mom, dad, and now Dadi-”

That is what snaps Suguru, the mention of Dadi and he punches Satoru with such force that his best friend nearly falls down. Suguru picks him up, only to punch him in the face again. “If you say anything regarding my mom and dad, I will break your face,” He snaps, voice colder than ice. “You aren’t even your mom-dad’s person, how can you even be my best friend? All this talk about class and status, what do you do? All you do is use your dad’s influence and money.”

“Dad’s money is all that you’re after right?” Satoru doubles down in his vicious words. “That’s why you befriended me, right? You wanted to have a life like me - and now you’re also stealing my girlfriend?!”

“What’s this girlfriend-boyfriend thing, huh?” Suguru doubles down as well, high from the anger coursing through his veins. “She never loved you, and you-? You’ve been out there everywhere putting your face on every other girl you see. You’re calling this a relationship? You have no right to call her your girlfriend!”

“You’re no one to tell me of my rights,” Satoru yells, holding Suguru’s t-shirt’s collar, ready to throw another punch. “She is mine, mine only!”

“Why don’t you ask her whose she is?” Suguru challenges. “She loves me, and I love her!”

They’ve started throwing punches everywhere, the whole school watching their brawl unfold. Satoru hits, Suguru punches, it’s a mess - a mess that you cannot stand, for reasons you aren’t ready to accept yourself. You walk up to them, tears glistening in your eyes and yell at them to stop. They do, but the air is still thick with tension as you speak, “What do you even know about me? About my feelings?” You speak to the both of them, voice breaking. “Nothing! And the sad part is, you aren’t even willing to listen! You just want to win me - I am not a part of any competition. I am not a prize. I am done with this whole thing.” 

Suguru looks upset, ashamed of himself, but Satoru only looks angry - and you don’t know what pains you more. You rush away, before anyone in the gathering crowd as a chance to stop you and hide in your dorm.

Satoru’s anger doesn’t subside even as he reaches home. Even as his mother shows concern for the bruises on his face, he only pushes her off, not in the mood to see anyone. If his mood wasn’t already so bad, it got worse as his father came up to stop him, demanding that he treat his mother with respect.

“Look at yourself!” Isamu Gojo scolds with a yell. “You look like a street thug! Who did you even fight? Answer me.”

“I don’t want to answer anyone,” Satoru says, meeting his dads angry gaze.

“You have to, you’re living under my roof,” Isamu snaps. “I’ve tolerated your misdemeanour for so long. You can’t behave properly at home, at least mind your family’s image outside of the house.”

“You’ve not made any good image, Dad,” Satoru finally says, swallowing the angry lump in his throat. “The only thing you’ve made is money.”

“That’s the money funding your life, you know?!” Isamu yells, eyes wide in anger. “You only know two things - having fun and making a fool out of me,”

“What are you ashamed of, hm?” Satoru asks, lips wobbling as he speaks. “That I don’t want to be an industrialist? That I want to be a musician?”

“Yes! I’m ashamed that my son has such middle-class dreams!” Isamu yells back.

“Dreams don’t have any class,” Satoru says, blinking away his tears. “But only a dad would get that, not a twisted man.” Isamu slaps him, and Satoru’s voice finally breaks as he says, “I have no wish to live in your house, and I don’t want to be your son,”

“You’ve lost the privilege of being my son,” Isamu says, an angry frown on his face.

“When was I ever your son?” Satoru asks, then turns around to leave. His mother tries to stop him, but he pushes her off once again, vowing to himself to never turn back, to never step foot in any of his father’s properties again and to never take a penny from this man.

He is filled with a new determination to win the Student of the Year trophy - to prove everyone and himself that he wasn’t useless, that he was more than Mr. Gojo’s money made him. His goal had now shifted from winning the trophy to defeating everyone else - particularly Suguru.

The second last stage of the competition - the prom where everyone needs to bring a date - is close and everyone’s preparations are in full swing. The campus gym is occupied and people are busy finding dates and practising their steps, for no one ever wants to lose after coming this close. 

Satoru has become a loner, avoiding even Haibara during lunch hour. Suguru too is back to his quiet self, speaking only when he deems it to be necessary. You… Well, you’ve had the worst burnt of their fight somehow - utterly messed up with your own emotions - your mind says one thing but your heart craves another, you’re avoiding everyone like they are the plague. 

Shoko finds you sitting all alone, eyes distant. “Hey, what’s up?” She asks, sitting beside you. “Who are you going to prom with? Satoru or Suguru?”

“It’s not funny, Shoko,” you say with a frown. “The whole school is gossiping about me now,”

“Ignore the gossip,” Shoko says, voice serious. “Tell me about your feelings,”

“I don’t even want to think about them!” You’re exasperated, torn by your own moralities and desires.

“You love Suguru,” Shoko sternly says, trying to talk sense into you. 

“Shoko, Satoru and I-”

“What about it?” She stops you. “There was nothing there - you were angry and miserable for most of the time. It was not a match made in heaven, rather a match made in your elite circles.” Her concern is genuine. “I know you’re confused right now, and you’re allowed to be confused. You should take some time. Your heart will answer for you.”

“There’s this competition right in the middle of everything,” You sigh.

“Then leave it,” Shoko suddenly says, an idea forming in her pretty head. You turn your head to her, eyes wide. “This stupid competition is not more important than your feelings, right?”

You discreetly scrutinise her fidgety behaviour and say, “You’re right, I won’t take a part in this competition. Disqualifying isn’t that bad,” you turn to her just as she suppresses her smile. “What do you think?”

“I’d have done the same thing, if I were you.” Shoko says, squeezing your shoulder in support.

The next evening, Shoko jogs up to Haibara after her gym session, saying, “Haibara, I’ve decided that I will be your date to prom this year,”

“You aren’t going to be my date,” He says, voice sassy. “You’re late.” He sounds thrilled saying your name, “She has already asked me to be her date.”

Shoko storms into your shared room and sees you checking yourself out in the mirror, seeing which dress looks pretty on you. You barely pay any attention to her as she angrily stomps her feet.

“Are you seriously going to prom with Haibara?” She practically spits out.

“Yeah, I am,” You say, feigning innocence. “I suddenly thought, why should I even let Satoru or Suguru influence my life?”

“And why did you think of that so suddenly?” She asks, voice bitter.

“Shouldn’t you be happy?” You say, frowning a little. “I don’t get this reaction,”

“What do you mean?” Shoko says, her breaths suddenly heavy with the way you’ve caught her little scheme.

“You know exactly what I mean, Shoko,” You say. “But I am not giving up on prom just to reduce your competition,” You look her up and down once, adding, “Because, lets face it, you and dance is like me and poor,”

Shoko rapidly blinks, then says, “You’re so disgusting,” she turns to leave. “I don’t even want to talk to you,”

You pat her shoulder, and bat your eyelashes, “I’d have done the same thing, if I were you.” echoing her words back to her.

Shoko leaves your room, walking to put as much distance as she can between the two of you. In the basketball court, she sees Suguru, alone and begins rambling about your confused state under her breath, pretending that she didn’t see him.

“Shoko, are you okay?” He stops her and asks once she is close to him.

“No, I’m not okay. I’ve just fought with her.” Shoko says, not hiding her anger. “She is such a drama queen I’m so tired of her!”

“Why what happened?” He asks, thin brows creased with concern.

“She says she’s confused between you and Satoru,” She says, and Suguru instantly turns to the ball in his hands, avoiding her angry brown eyes. “But she is going to prom with Haibara, so Satoru gets jealous. Then there’s no confusion, right?”

“Right,” Suguru hesitates, turning to the basket instead, his bangs hiding his heartbreak.

“Anyways, I don’t want to be in the middle of all of this,” She says, brown eyes gleaming with excitement, seeing the effect of her words on Suguru. “I’ll speak to you later, okay?” She walks away, praying that her little scheme works.

“Shoko,” He calls after her, and her heart does a little dance at her plan working out. “Who are you going to prom with?”

“No one,” She says in a small voice, her lips pulled down in a frown. 

“Haibara, please help me find a date to prom,” Nanami asks, sitting on the edge of his friend’s bed. “There’s no one willing to go with me,”

“I love you Nanami,” Haibara says, sitting up with his hand on the blond’s shoulder. “But I cannot go to prom with you,”

“I don’t want to go to prom with you, I want you to help me find a date to the prom, man,” Nanami says.

“Nanami, leave,” Satoru says, storming into Haibara’s room. Nanami grumbles under his breath but leaves the two alone. “Haibara, you’re taking her to prom?! Who do you even think you are?”

“I’m Haibara,” He says, frowning.

“Did a rabid dog bite you or something?” the white haired man shakes his head, irked. “Are you crazy? You go, you go and tell her that you can’t be her date to prom.”

“Hey! Stop it,” Haibara yells. “I don’t need your permission to do things in my life. I’m not your servant.”

Satoru chuckles, shaking his head. It’s demeaning. “What about all that time you spent on my credit card, hm?”

Something breaks in the brunet’s heart at the mention, so he says, “But i’ve also given you full service for that time,” He has a rare, angry frown on his face. “Haibara, park the car, Haibara, bring me a drink. Haibara, can you take her to the mall for me, please? Can you bring her an apology card? Now Haibara is taking her to prom as his date, arm in arm and you can’t do anything about it.”

“You too are showing your class,” Satoru says through gritted teeth.

“You are no one to talk about class, Satoru.” Haibara taunts. “The only thing you have is daddy’s money, and now you don’t even have that,” 

“Satoru, don’t be so upset now,” Tanya says, running her hands over his chest by the swimming pool. She undoes her robe, pressing herself against his chest, saying, “If you want… I could be your date,”

(the disco song)

The much anticipated prom night and dance competition is now here - eliminating four out of the twelve competitors - only 8 finalists and one winner of the trophy. Suguru-Shoko, Satoru-Tanya, Haibara-You, Nanami-Ichiji and the rest of the participants stand in the front, arm in arm with their dates in front of the judges with Dean Yaga introducing you to the two women. The tension in the air is thick and palpable, with everyone waiting to see who will snap first under the pressure. It was dance or disqualification, and everyone wanted to eliminate their competition.

Suguru and Shoko sneak a glance at you - Shoko with a proud smile and Suguru with a distant longing, and you feel yourself tearing up seeing your friend in his arms, by his side. You turn your head, happening to meet Satoru’s gaze. He has Tanya on his arm - the sight of it making your blood boil. You feel indifference, the discontent in your heart at the sight of Shoko and Suguru evaporating with the anger. You are there to win. 

The music plays and the competitors start with their opening steps. You’re half jealous of the way Suguru and Shoko move together so gracefully, painfully reminded of that time in Thailand that you had danced with him. Satoru and Tanya have bolder dance moves, the bitter memories of the past year feeding into your determination to move to the next round.

You dance with Haibara, it’s not as natural as it had been with Suguru, but you will have to do it. You’re both there to prove a point.

The solo dancing has you moving more gracefully, and you hope that the judges give you some extra points for the performance you put up. Suguru and Satoru perform their own well practised sequence with the music - you don’t feel much looking at them now, without their dates.

The competitors dance with the beats of the music, Suguru twirling a rarely graceful Shoko in his arms and Satoru spinning with Tanya in his arms. Haibara has you in his arms in a dance similar to waltz, and you put on your best smile for the judges. For a moment, in your head, you are with Suguru - with him easily manoeuvring you around, your steps perfectly in sync and your smile turns more genuine.

The music shifts and your partners change, you land into Satoru’s arms, looking right into his mellowed blue eyes so full of repentance and regret. You cannot stand to look at him, all the nights that you’ve stayed up crying at his antics flooding your memories as you turn away from him. The familiarity of his chest against your back and his breaths on your neck as you cringing. You thank the heavens as the music shifts again - Satoru spins you around and stomps away from you in anger, the memory of you kissing his best friend too fresh a wound.

The heavens tease you with kindness, turning cruel as you end up in Suguru’s arms, unable to look away from his pretty purple eyes, his hair smooth against your hand on his chest. It’s too much - the memory of his gentle touch, his easy smile, the warmth of his lips against yours, the sight of your best friend with him. Oh you want to embrace him so bad it makes you want to cry. This competition is a cruel joke - destroying your relationships and playing with your delicate heart like some child’s toy. You cannot bring yourself to look away from his eyes, so soft and gentle as he steadily holds your gaze with moist eyes even as you step back and move away from him, hands moving from his chest to your sides and you leave the stage, barely holding back your tears.

Satoru has been eyeing you, his heart breaking into a million pieces as a cold acceptance replaces the warmth of his affections for you. He now knows - it was too obvious, you never looked at him like you looked at Suguru just then. The acceptance is what he needs as he resumes with this solo dance, determined to snatch that trophy away from Suguru.

Suguru blinks away the tears the sight of yours brought, and he has to physically restrain himself from running after you. You need space, he thinks, before remembering the trophy that had started all of this in the first place, restarting his solo dance as he loses sight of you, the determination to win that trophy dulling.

Satoru, Shoko, Suguru and Haibara are four of the eight from the now-split gang that make into the finalists, ready for the final stage of the competition - the triathlon which begins with swimming, then cycling and ends with track.

Suguru sees Dean Yaga with Mr. Gojo one afternoon, only greeting Yaga with a good afternoon.

“Hi Suguru,” Mr Gojo shakes his hand with a bright smile. “How are you?”

Yaga beats Suguru to it, beaming with pride, “By the way, Suguru and Rohan are both in the top 8. It’s gonna be a tough battle, Isamu, not easy.”

“Yeah, I don’t think so,” Isamu says, shaking his head.

“Well, you will say that,” Yaga says with a smile. “Satoru is your son, after all.”

“That’s why I’m saying this,” There’s something in Isamu’s voice that ticks Suguru off in the wrong way. “Suguru will win, my money is on you.” Isamu pats his shoulder, then says. “Good luck,”

The whole time, the top 8 finalists spend their time training for the triathlon - timing their swimming, working out their legs and spending time on the cycle. It's an intense couple of days, with much tension but no drama.

On the day of the triathlon, you sit in the bleachers by the swimming pool, watching your friends stretch and get ready before the swimming starts. Satoru’s eyes are determined and challenging Suguru, whose face hides his internal conflicts. Somehow, his eyes find yours in the buzzing crowd, and you give him a small smile, which he returns before putting his goggles on and getting ready to dive.

It’s Shoko with her slim body and fast reflexes that finishes the swim first, and quickly gets out and puts on her shoes before running out to the cycles. Haibara is next, followed by Suguru ahead of Satoru by a fraction of a second. Once out of the surveillance area, the brunet is quick to catch up to Shoko and push her off track and into the grass, promptly disqualifying her.

Satoru, fueled by rage, powers up and puts everyone behind on the cycling path, with Suguru close behind him, his internal battle now in favour of winning the trophy. Satoru is the first one to enter the race track, followed by Suguru. There’s a distance of more than 10 metres between them when Suguru starts running. Satoru runs on red rage while Suguru has the skills of the track, easily catching up the distance. Ultimately, the battle for the trophy is between the two of them and no one else. 

The last few seconds are intense, Suguru has caught up on the distance, and the both run parallelly now, in the bleachers, Isamu Gojo is cheering for his son’s defeat, while his mother looks concerned. For a moment, Suguru has overtaken Satoru, everyone is sure of his victory, when Suguru slows down a bit and adrenaline pushes Satoru. The smile on Isamu’s face fades as the chances of his son winning increase. Suguru’s eyes close for a moment, and Satoru becomes the first one to push the ribbon, by a mere hundredth of a second. He’s unsure of his win, but the angry frown on Suguru’s pretty face has him accepting it.

The crowd breaks out in cheers, celebrating Satoru’s win.

Later in the evening, after everyone has changed into formals and put on the Saint Teresa blazers, they assemble in the hall, waiting for Dean Yaga to finally hand the trophy to Satoru Gojo. Nanami isn’t himself, having spent the entire week disappointed in himself and Yaga - for making this competition unfair and breaking apart his friend group.

“Boys and Girls, I’m delighted to call on the stage,” Dean Yaga’s awfully cheerful voice cuts through everyone’s ears. “The Student of the Year, Satoru Gojo!” Satoru smiles at his mother’s delight for his victory, and goes up to the stage as the crowd cheers for him. “Congratulations, many congratulations,” Yaga says as he hugs his student. “I’m so proud of you, my boy. All yours.”

“Thank you,” Satoru says, voice more serious than usual. “Each student of Saint Teresa wants to win the title of the Student of the Year. In 25 years, there have been many successful students who won this trophy,” he pauses for a moment. Satoru’s pale nose is unusually pink, as if he has spent his time crying. “I don’t want to insult anyone - but I cannot accept this trophy.” He explains, “I have my reasons, reasons that I have no wish to explain.”

The hall falls into a stunned, confused silence. You, Shoko, Haibara are all confused - he wanted to win that trophy so badly, then why was he suddenly refusing to accept it? What even happened? He walks down the stage, stopping in front of his father for a second, a smirk on his face and shaking his head at the sombre old man, then walks away.

Suddenly, Nanami loudly claps his hands in the crowd, drawing everyone’s attention and making Satoru stop in his tracks. He gets up from his place and continues clapping. “Well done, Satoru, well done!” he says, his appearance dishevelled. “Good for you! Good for you!” he turns to the crowd, “Hey! Why aren’t you all clapping now, when you should?” He takes the hand of a student and claps his hands together. “Clap your hands!”

“Nanami! Behave yourself,” Yaga scolds from above the stage. “Are you drunk? The school will not tolerate this behaviour!”

“School?” Nanami chuckles with irony. “You know what Dean, to hell with this school, and to hell with you!”

“Nanami!” Coach gets up from his place, angry at his behaviour. Suguru gets up and tries to take Nanami away, but the blond stops him.

“This Student of the Year trophy was your idea, right?” Nanami turns to Yaga, clicking his fingers. “Then you should get the award.” He pretends to pick up an award from Suguru’s empty chair. “Here is your award for the most stupid idea!”

“All because you didn’t win?” Yaga’s voice is condescending. “Look at yourself Nanami, what were the chances?”

“Yes, I lost.” Nanami admits. “But why did I lose?” he’s raising his hand, pointing his finger to Yaga. “Because of you and your stupid rules. Guys and girls will run together, a date is mandatory for the prom,” he comically dances in his drunk anger, saying in a sing-song voice, “dance to win the trophy,” he turns back to Yaga with a chuckle. “But who cares, who cares if this idiot can’t dance? And who cares that people like us,” his finger goes back and forth between himself and Yaga. “Who cares that people like us can find a partner? You should’ve known that,” his tone is accusatory and he’s beginning to cry.

Your heart cries in sympathy, while Satoru and Suguru inch closer to him, trying to get him to stop. “Let me speak, this stupid drama has been going on for 25 years now,” Nanami challenges. “Why? Because Dean Masamichi Yaga has no entertainment in his own life. He’s alone, and he wants to break all our friendships too. You know what, you are a jealous, lonely and very unhappy man!”

Yaga’s face has reddened and his eyes welled up behind his signature glasses. He’s stunned into silence, but Nanami continues, “Congratulations, sir! Your final episode is a complete hit! You ended two years of friendships within two weeks.” His voice only gets louder. “We all hate each other!” He raises his hand in a military salute. “For that, I wanna salute you, Dean Masamichi Yaga!”

He drops the navy Saint Teresa blazer at the Dean’s feet and stomps away, pushing Satoru and Suguru on his way out.

Ten years later

Nanami’s phone rings in the middle of the night, who answers, grumpy. “Hello,” the voice on the other line says something. “There’s no Ichiji here… OH! Ichiji!” He wakes up as realisation hits him. “Hi! How are you? What? Okay, I’ll come to Dehradun as soon as I can. Yeah, no worries I’ll find them on instagram.”

Now in Dehradun, Nanami, Haibara, Shoko and Tanya recall their time back in Saint Teresa from a decade ago, when Satoru enters the hospital. He’s changed completely - a black blindfold instead of his round sunglasses make up his performer personna - the rockstar Satoru Gojo.  Although, he’s ditched his blindfold in favour of square glasses.

Tanya, just wrapping up her divorce with her fourth husband, is awfully delighted to see Satoru. He hugs Shoko, saying, “You’re looking like a girl now,” gesturing to her long brown hair.

Shoko shakes her head, saying, “I’m a doctor and a mother now. You’re a great person too now,”

“The consequence of leaving my father behind,” He jokes.

“I’m so proud of you,” He says. Satoru spots Haibara, and envelopes in a bear hug, the anger from a decade back forgotten. “Haibara, how are you doing?” He playfully punches Nanami on the shoulder. “How are you, man?”

“What did the doctors say?” He asks, enquiring about Yaga’s condition. Just then, their old coach comes in, complementing his intense, rockstar appearance. Satoru has piercings on his left ear now. He hugs Ichiji, now the new coach at Saint Teresa, walking with him to see the critically sick Yaga.

Suguru gets out of his white Mercedes sedan, dressed in a navy trench coat with a grey sweater vest underneath and a striped scarf warming his neck. His hair has grown out in the last 10 years, long straight hair falling down till his waist. Half of it is tied in an updo. He hasn’t changed as dramatically as Satoru, but he has grown a lot more confident and assertive.

He gets to the other side of the sedan, opening the door to offer you his hand, never wanting to let you open any doors since the two of you got together. You’ve been married for three years now, and you’re the happiest when with him. The only wish you have is that you could turn back time and have things go a little differently than they have, maybe everything would be even better, then.

Getting off the elevator, the first person you see is Shoko, who smiles sweetly at the two of you. Suguru gives her a side hug, greeting her kindly. He then leaves the two of you, knowing there are things left unresolved.

“Hey, Haibara,” Suguru says, deliberately not greeting Satoru right beside him. The long haired man with delicate features instead goes to greet Nanami and Tanya, seeing them after a long time.

“It's been a long time,” Shoko softly says, brown eyes apologising more sincerely than any words ever could.

“Yeah,” You raise your arms, hugging her. Pulling back, you shake your head with a smile. “I hoped you might call after having your baby… Such ego,”

“It wasn’t ego, it was shame,” Shoko admits. 

“It’s all in the past now, forget it,” You say.

“What was even the point of doing all that?” She repents. “I’m still a normal person,”

“Let’s leave all of that,” You say, shaking your head. “Show me the pictures of your baby now,” Shoko smiles brightly at you and shows you the pictures of her little baby girl. “What’s Tanya up to, these days?” you quietly ask her.

“Looking for a new husband,” She whispers to you. “I’d advice to keep Suguru away from her,”

“I trust him,” You say, dismissing her concerns and she gives you a knowing smile. “I'll have to keep him away from someone else though,” you turn to Satoru.

“Hmm,” Shoko still has that teasing smile. “It’s a hospital, wrecking it won’t leave a good impression,”

“Exactly,” you say. “I’ll be right back,”

You walk up to Satoru and Haibara, greeting them both. Haibara leaves quickly, giving the two of you some space. You haven't spoken to Satoru since that day when everything went wrong. But you hug him for a short moment. He had been an important person in your life, afterall.

“You didn’t even invite me to your wedding,” Satoru playfully complains. “I would’ve been there from the bride’s side. I have that much right, don’t I?”

“Shut up, Satoru,” you tease him back. “What’s with that intense look?” you ask, gesturing to his all black appearance and piercings.

“A musician’s appearance must reflect his pain,” He explains. “Otherwise the music doesn’t sell, you know?”

“I’ve listened to your music, you know.” You admit. “Your latest album is amazing,”

“Does he let you listen to my music?” He asks, nodding to Suguru.

“He secretly listens to it himself,” You chuckle. “But he won’t admit that. Come meet Sugu now, come on.”

“Na-ahn,” Satoru shakes his head. “You married him and are showing your authority over me. That's not how it works,”

Suguru’s outside, texting on his phone when you find him. “It’s been ten years now, Sugu,” you try to reason with him. He pockets his phone with a sigh at your words. “What’s to lose by saying a little hello?”

“He shrieks in his songs, he can come say hello too,” Suguru counters with his soft voice. 

“You’re an investment banker Sugu, not a child,” You try to convince him, placing your hand on his arm.

“And you’re my wife, darling,” He says, his eyes kind as he looks down at you. “Not your ex boyfriend’s lawyer.”

“Ex boyfriend’s lawyer, where did that come from?” You say, brows creased and nose scrunched up.

“I saw you hug him,” He counters, making you sigh. “Feeling affectionate?”

“That’s disgusting Sugu, come on,” you drawl.

“What else were you expecting?” Satoru’s taunting voice suddenly interrupts you. “He has billions in his bank but the class of a penny,”

“What did you do with your high class, huh?” Suguru snaps back, but his voice is still a model of serene calm. “You’re playing that guitar like a courtesan in front of an audience,”

“But I give great hugs,” Satoru says, turning to you with a raised brow. “Right?”

That breaks Suguru’s calm facade. He menacingly steps between you and Satoru asserting, “Bastard, mind your mouth. You’re speaking to my wife.”

“She was my girlfriend that day when you kissed her,” Satoru angrily snaps, pushing him back. Suguru punches his face, the martial arts expertise not left too behind with his stock market capabilities. Their fist-fight out in the hospital’s garden has your friends gathering, with Nanami and Haibara rushing to pull them apart at your request, only for Shoko to stop them.

“Don’t,” She says. “It’s an anger of ten years, let them get it out.”

A moment later, Suguru has Satoru's face bruised and pinned to the ground, yelling right in his face, “Why are you so angry, Satoru? It’s not just because of my darling wife,” Satoru’s red face is an angry grimace, wincing in pain. “You didn’t even love her. Then why this anger?!”

Satoru pushes Suguru off himself, standing up and pointing his finger to him accusatory. “You deliberately let yourself lose that day!” He yells, white hair flying in all directions. His mind flashes back to the triathlon from ten years ago. “Why did you do that?” He pushes Suguru, emphasising his point. “Why?!”

“Because your father was a nasty, twisted man!” Suguru answers with a yell. “He was rejoicing seeing you lose, he was wishing me luck to defeat you.” Suguru confesses, retying his messed up hair. “I wanted to be like your father, but even I couldn’t be this twisted. I thought,” Satoru’s blue eyes have lost all that electric rage, leaving behind teared up eyes on realisation. “In that moment, I realised that I could defeat the most powerful man of the country by making you win,” He inhales a deep breath before continuing. “My dad was dead, Satoru, but yours wasn’t a dad either.”

“I dealt with my dad when I left him and his name,” Satoru says, his shove gentle now. “I didn’t need your nobility,”

Suguru shakes his hand, chuckling at his ironic statement. “Nobility, wow!” He incredulously says. “What about that drama you pulled off on the stage? Huh? What the hell was that?” Suguru’s brow is creased and he’s poking at Satoru’s chest, speaking through gritted teeth. “If you knew everything that day, why didn’t you say anything in front of everyone? In front of you dad?” He answers his question himself, “Because you wanted to show to your father that you actually won,”

Satoru throws a punch at that, and Suguru returns a harder one, busting his lip. “Don’t hit my face so hard!” Satoru complains, holding his large hand against his busted lip. 

“Bloody loser,” Suguru mumbles under his breath, wiping the blood on his knuckle and feeling his bruised cheekbone.

“Hey! Who are you calling a loser?” Satoru gets defensive. It’s a true comedy - how fast their fight boiled over and turned childish. “All last five of my albums have been platinum hits,”

“So what?” Suguru competes as well. “My banking business has a turnover of 500 million,”

“International music labels chase me!” Satoru claims. (it's the truth)

“Companies beg me for mergers,” Suguru claims (also the truth)

“When I perform, Wembley shakes,” Satoru yells.

“One snap of my fingers shakes the stock market,” Suguru claims.

“I’ve been with a hundred women-” Satoru says, forgetting himself in the heat of the moment.

“And I have my darling wife-” Suguru says, not hearing Satoru. “Wait what? A hundred, really?” He asks in his calm voice with his brows raised, eyeing him.

“Yeah, plus or minus ten,” Satoru has calmed down as well, but he is terribly embarrassed at his admission. 

“Plus or minus?” Suguru asks.

“Probably minus,” Satoru admits.

They both burst out laughing - it starts with a smile, going to a chuckle then a full blown laughter. “You haven’t changed a bit, you bastard.” Suguru decides.

Quieting down for a moment, they assess the damage, when Satoru slowly turns to his friend. “Are you about to kiss me right now?” Suguru teases.

“I won’t even hug you, motherfucker,” Satoru says as they hug.

Dean Yaga dies with people he cared about surrounding him, happy to see that Suguru and Satoru have rekindled their friendship. Their broken bond weighed heavy on his heart, and he passed peacefully on seeing his old students back together. Satoru and Suguru are back at Saint Teresa’s campus, this time as alumni - there to show students to follow their hearts and maintain their friendships instead of seeing them as competition.

A/N: it took me nearly two weeks to complete and the last 7k words i wrote in one sitting, my hands were numb but we finished it and i've proofread it once (please ignore any errors) special shoutout to my desi girlies here, we've all wanted to be shanaya at one point lmao. I hope ya'll enjoyed it because it was fun writing this hehe. Also the reason I have Satoru or Suguru first is because here in india we address each other by first names for the most part

[iznsfw]

Day-Off

Kep1er's Shen Xiaoting x Male Reader x Male Friend Smut

10,884 words

Categories | masturbation, handjob, blowjob, facefucking, cunnilingus, anal, spitroast, thighfucking, slapping

Masterlist | Mobile Masterlist | Commission me!

First commission! :D Thanks for funding my siblings' allowances and my search for a new laptop. I'm not even being sarcastic; your tips and commissions help me out a lot. Work can be cruel.

Okay, to begin with: one could say Xiaoting’s a little pent up. Just a little is what she'd like to say, for the sake of everyone around her, but with the way things are going, she might as well be flat-out enraged. Fucking unhinged, if you will. She’s a nudge away from screaming and wrecking everything everywhere all at once, all over the place. 

The problem? Well, it's not an easy answer. But this is the short one: it's not at all fun being kept in the company building to practice more even after they've replayed the comeback song more times than she can count on her fingers. There's a one, a two, and a one, two, three—

Cue the music! 

(Yeah, that wasn't a particularly short answer.)

"So, I was thinking…" hums Yujin, sedentary beside her and with a head on her shoulder. 

Every bone in Xiaoting’s body is on fire after the rehearsals. But: "What is it?" 

See, it's been a rough day, but not too rough that she's going to take it all out on her best friend. No matter what happens, she is and always will remain an angel to Yujin. Nothing more, nothing less. They're practically sisters with how much time they've spent together. She guesses she should return the favor of friendship in her own little way.

Here's how it is with her and Yujin as of present: they're in the practice room, and it's quiet. The rest of the group have emptied the place out and the two of them are alone. This is usually the time Xiaoting and she catch up with each other; there isn't much time to do that in between packed schedules, but since then she’s formed quite a friendship with her bandmate, and she’s determined to keep it strong.

Yujin taps her chin cutely. "Are the CCTVs' audio on?"

Xiaoting raises a brow. A smile, however, settles for the first time on her face. "Choi Yujin," she says, both seriously and kiddingly, "what the hell are you planning now?"

"Language.”

“The girls—"

"—aren't here," Yujin fills the blanks in for her with her signature eye smile. "Exactly, thank you for bringing that up. They can't join us when we go there."

She blinks, not catching on. "Go where?" 

The older girl pushes two index fingers together. "I may or may not have negotiated with the manager," she says slyly, "and we may or may not have a day-off tomorrow."

Genuine and grateful shock filters into Xiaoting’s Bambi-wide eyes. The sides of her mouth twitch, and she realizes it’s a smile. It takes news like this to bring out a big, giddy one from her. It's the right news at the perfect time.

(No, it can't be merely called news—it's a blessing. The universe is finally kind to her. Maybe it doesn't deserve the endless curses she's thrown at it after rough days, when it's chosen to bear the weight of the sky on her.

Xiaoting, however, is fantastic at holding grudges.)

"You're kidding!" says Xiaoting happily. Her hands grip Yujin's shoulders, and now she's got the girl swaying to and fro driven by her own excitement. Force is something she doesn't relent, so Yujin's forced to bear the calamity of her happiness with the repeated rocking. “Yujin unnie, oh my god, you’re the best!”

"Calm down!" she chides with a giggle, but the girl's energy only goes up.

"We've got to go somewhere! Somewhere fancy, Yujin unnie, somewhere like a… a…"

What could be the perfect place to go for a day-off? The two of them have already gone to a massage therapist, as well as blown money on massive shopping sprees. That film screening’s crossed out, too. Now, with all of those boxes checked, they need a new one to add to the list. 

"A hot spring," Yujin declares rather than suggests, a cheeky grin on her face. Seems like she’s been scheming about a day-off for more than a while. "We're going to, like, a super private hot spring. It’s really exclusive, so even if people recognize us, we’ll be fine. Privacy is one of the reasons why it’s got five stars on Google reviews.”

Xiaoting leans back into the mirror and thinks about it. A private hot spring? No need to think if people would see her or not? It sounds too good to be true. She loves being an idol despite the schedules and cramped day-offs, but it definitely won’t hurt to be able to be herself where it won’t matter. It would drain the stress from her life even for just a little while.

Who knows? She might even make some new friends.

“I’m in!” 

-

Well, someone isn't, but that's how the story goes.

-

“Isn’t this kind of like nepotism?”

The creases on your clothes don’t smooth out by themselves. You guess you shouldn’t have procrastinated ironing them, especially now that you’re bringing them along for a trip. Look over at your friend's luggage and see that his clothes aren’t that perfect either, which comforts a much more unprioritized concern.

“Dude,” he sighs as he folds his clothes into organized (or at least, as organized as they can be) places inside his luggage bag, “do you even know what nepotism means?”

He got you. You make a sigh of your own, too; your main concern being the whole vacation thing is rather odd. It really shouldn’t be when it’s a promise of a good time, food served limitlessly, and the waves always there to crash on a tired soul, but it still sets you off.

What could be the reason for your gut feeling? You haven’t been able to figure out why. All you know is that if Lee weren’t your friend, you’d have refused to go. You would have fought not to go, but your circumstances are different, hence the clothes scattered along the carpeted floor of his room and the unzipped luggage carry-ons.

Your belongings sit side by side in your bag. Your earphones are tangled strings and your clothes are wrinkled; they don’t want to go either, apparently. They all yearn for home, just like you are, even if you’re just in the packing stage of the trip. 

Maybe they’ve got little introverted souls of their own.

“No,” you admit. Your back slumps. “It just… it just doesn’t seem fair, y'know."

“Who cares?” Lee says, in his usual, laid-back manner. It’s the thing that made the two of you close friends in the first place, but right now, it’s interfering with helping him understand your situation. Pity. “Lin works there, so it isn’t exactly a privilege. He works his ass off, and since he’s been a long-time employee, we get to stay there for free. Isn’t it neat?”

Lee looks at you with an expression that prods you to agree, but you don’t budge. It’s kind of funny how you refuse to enjoy a free connections-caused vacation when your morals are already fucked up as is, but when you believe in something, you don’t really back down easily.

Is that a good trait? Not exactly; it has its fair share of bad days.

“What about people who lose a booking spot because of us?” 

“Fuck them, man,” Lee says nonchalantly, waving a hand in the air. “I’m going to have fun, and nothing can ruin that for me.”

How you’re friends with someone who’s your complete opposite, you’ve no idea. But you like Lee—he’s been there for you when no one wanted to be, and you owe more to him than an agreement to a vacation. If that’s the case, why couldn’t you just go?

You say nothing. You don’t know what else to say anyway. Any more words from you might dig a deeper hole than you’ve already dug, so you choose to be silent. Sometimes it’s better to keep your mouth shut than explain yourself. 

“Hey,” he suddenly says, a softer melody to his tone now. “I’m sorry. I know you’re not too happy about going out, so if you want to back out, it’s totally fine with me. No hard feelings.”

You know he’s just trying to be kind, as anyone would, but his words tell you anything but not to go. Thing is, you don’t like being a burden on his back. On anyone’s back for that matter. Maybe it’s time to dip your toes out of your comfort zone and just dive headfirst into doing it. The whole thing would be over sooner than you’d think.

"I guess I'm in," you say. No going back now. 

"I fucking love you, man!" Lee cheers, throwing his arms around you. 

You have to admit you're smiling. Stifle it, but the creases of happiness get your cheeks unable to form a disguise. Decide not to hide it anymore (because who the fuck are you kidding anyway?) and return to packing.

In a slightly better mood, you fold one graphic shirt over the other, and ask, "What's the hype about the place anyway?"

"Well," Lee explains, "it's a hot spring. It's where celebrities, idols—all the hot people, basically—go for a vacay."

"Does that make us hot people then?" you wonder out loud. It's worth the question.

"You are a good-looking dude. I'd definitely tap that."

"Thanks." An embarrassingly lengthy beat. "Wait, what—"

"They pay really good, too," Lee goes on as if nothing happened. "That's why Lin likes working there. It has unlimited portions of dinner and a big buffet at night. The water's really warm, too, so you're not gonna shiver when you get in."

"Ah. Well,” shrug matter-of-factly, “it is a hot spring."

He smirks. "You don't get it, do you? The water there is perfect for external detoxifying. That's where Nayeon goes to get perfect skin."

There he goes again. Lee’s the type of person to be too in the know of every piece of celebrity gossip out there. That quality of his goes up when it’s about his favorite idol, Im Nayeon. 

"You're too in love with her," you scoff.

"We have a connection, is all."

"A parasocial one at that."

"One more word out of you," Lee says, voice full of warning, "and you're banned from my house and the hot spring."

You chuckle. Lee's quite sensitive when it comes to Nayeon. You wonder if there would be a point in your life wherein you'd obsess over an idol, too, just like he is. Perhaps a few months from now? 

(A day from now?)

"Oh, come on," you protest. Zip up your bag and shove it over to Lee. "It's not my fault you genuinely believe Nayeon's your girlfriend!"

"I don't, what the fuck."

"Then why do you want to go to the hot spring so badly? Think you can meet her there?" Put on a mocking voice. "Think you can marry her and have seven children with her?"

Lee glowers and gives you the finger. Gives you the finger on the other hand, too. Shoves the two raised middles into your face. "Fuck you, man."

Your heart feels lighter after teasing him. It just so happened that all it takes for you to agree is the classic ol' nagging. God knows you're good at that.

-

Your mind changed, see? It’s all going according to plan—you and Xiaoting have to meet somehow.

-

Xiaoting's happy that they're going to use the trailer. She knows it might attract attention, considering that a photo of her girl group is literally painted on the outer walls of the vehicle, but if the world sees fit, maybe people would assume it's a normal trailer with a fan-funded ad. 

Besides, it's better than her manager's tight old car. 

"We've got this place all to ourselves," Yujin says in her usual cheerful voice. She’s opted to go donning a lavender set of pajamas. Xiaoting chooses to wear a denim skirt and a t-shirt. "Which seat will it be, Ting?"

She scans the place. There are aisles and aisles of empty seats, all mantled with transparent plastic. There's a bathroom in the far end (essential after they eat some nice burgers on the road) and a television mounted at the very front of the trailer (gotta know what happens in the next episode of Running Man, after all).

Ultimately, they choose to sit near the doors. She suggests that they each occupy two seats opposite each other for comfort. Her friend agrees, thinking nothing of it. They both settle into their seats with pillows pressed to the trailer walls and the night sky watching their trip.

Would it watch if she decided to look at porn right now? Would the stars lose their shine after seeing the kinks she’s particularly into?

Oh, she knows it's risky, but she's got her headphones with her, hanging 'round her neck like an accessory. Yujin and the driver won't be disturbed that way. And she’s got mobile data, too. If they ever check the Wi-Fi router history, they’d know nothing about her secrets. At least, she doesn't think so.

She bites her lip. Yujin's still awake, so she has to hold out for a few more minutes.

"Isn't it nice getting to go out once in a while?" Yujin asks. She sighs dreamily as she looks out at the passing roads. The moon gleams in the reflection in her eyes. "It’s been a while since we went on a road trip. Not that fun when cameras are around."

Xiaoting's thighs squirm together. She's too horny for small talk with her. Her hands and eyes remain locked on her phone, where a video of a woman with spread legs between two anonymous men waits. She wants to watch it already, to imagine that it’s her body they’re using. She wants to sink her fingers deep in her own cunt and fuck herself into a quiet yet violent orgasm. She needs it more than she could say, but Yujin’s still there, waiting for a response.

“Ting-ah,” Yujin calls out, looking at her with eyes full of expectation. She’s confused; Xiaoting is quiet, but not so much that her responses are nonexistent. Something must be wrong. “You okay?”

“Y-yeah.” Does she dare…? Xiaoting hopes the dark night covers her hand, which edges down to her covered core. She bites her lip to muffle the moany sound of her breath catching on a hook. “We deserve this. Let’s hope the girls aren’t jealous.”

“They’re going to stay at Disneyland,” replies the leader. “If anything, we’re the ones who should be jealous.”

Xiaoting finds her clit and rubs at it softly with the tip of her finger. Her thighs instinctually lock her wrist in place. The heat gathers at her bundle of nerves and spreads to the rest of her body. She’s too turned on, and the thought of Yujin or the driver finding out that she’s touching herself both frightens and excites her. At times, her wrist stops its choreographed motions, hesitance riddling its veins, but goes against it with a pace even she can’t keep up with.

“Xiaoting? Earth to Shen Xiaoting?”

“Ah,” she responds, but it’s more induced by her fingers drawing number 8s on her nub rather than an apologetic answer. Xiaoting’s cheeks and ears turn red. “Yeah, Disneyland. They’re younger anyway, so I’d guess they’d like… that.”

Yujin peers at her closely. Her eyes squint but fail to catch on to her groupmate’s hand which now starts to fuck her fingers into her tight hole. “Are you okay?” 

Xiaoting is more than okay. She’s blissful, and she’s not using the term loosely, mind you; her wetness practically floods her panties. They slicken the pads of her fingers and drive them through deeper places in her needy cunt. No matter how hard she tries to relax in order for her fingers to intrude her hole more, she still desperately clenches down. It’s humiliating how hard and sensitive her nipples have become even without them being directly touched.

Her hips sway in what she prays is a subtle dance. She looks out the window and nods. She’s a little afraid to speak. What if her words end up becoming garbled moans? Would it matter if they do? How high is the possibility of her saying something like please please let me touch myself, I’ll be a good girl, don’t make me stop I’ve been so good?

Yujin eventually lets the matter rest and melts into sleepful rest herself. It’s either she has an idea of what Xiaoting is doing and doesn’t care enough to pry, or has no idea at all and decides to leave it be for both of their sakes. Her head leans on the window pane where her sleep-ridden eyelids reflect.

Once Xiaoting ensures that her eyes are completely shut, she connects her headphones to her phone. Her mind’s so addled by lust that the clicking of buttons necessary to wire the sound matches the speed of light. She hits the play button, waiting eagerly for the video with the hand between her legs.

One of the men teases the woman’s tiny slit with his cock, making the actress toss her head back and bite her lip. Xiaoting’s mouth waters at how big the rod is, and suddenly it’s not lust much anymore but wishfulness. She wants to be fucked as good as she could be, and it can’t easily be solved with watching pornography. For now, though, she settles with teasing her clit with the same rhythm one of the male pornstars is performing on the passive woman.

Her heart aches with want. As she watches him penetrate her while his partner fucks her mouth, she teases herself. Her breaths break through her nostrils while her fingers rub up and down between her drenched folds. She dips her middle digit inside her clenched hole, and she has to gather her strength not to moan unabashedly right then and there. The power of imagination reaches beyond excellence, and right now she’s imagining that she’s in the same position as the porn actress: having both her upper and downer lips fucked at the same time.

“Fuck,” she whispers. It’s a thin little word, barely creating any sound, but she still looks at Yujin out of paranoia. Upon finding that she remains asleep, she continues fucking herself. The sides of her fingers clash with her velvety walls to rub and stimulate them. Her wrist bumps her clit, increasing the pleasure of the experience.

Her pussy’s closed tightly around her fingers, as if telling them to go on or they’ll be trapped here doing it forever. Soon, she has to lift her hips too to mash them with her hand. Xiaoting’s filling herself over and over again, and her risque little self-love session is amplified with the dirtiest of thoughts. She thinks how badly she wants to be used, to be treated like the good girl she’s willing to ditch her whole persona to be. She ponders on how good it would feel if her holes were to be filled with cock and fingers and cum, and the way it would never stop even after she’s spent. She guarantees that’s the part that makes her excited the most.

Soon, she’s lost in her own dream. This isn’t exactly a dream slumber would stumble across, but it’s perfect—it’s an imaginary land where she’s given what she wants. What she wants just so happens to be fucked. That’s how simple it is. She’d appreciate nothing more than to have her body rubbed and touched, to have her holes spread to their limits and taken in a way that’s almost inconsiderate. 

It's a fantasy she has, in fact, of being screwed by two people at once. She’s read the explicit fictional stories horny fans on the internet write about her, but she’s chosen to enjoy them rather than report them to her agency. They get some parts right: she wants to be fucked, she’s constantly on edge, and would love to have her sexual dreams fulfilled. The problem here is that there’s no one to make them come true for her; she has to stick with overused words in old fanfiction site posts and her fingers.

The two men’s symphony of moas draw wetter strings of lubrication from her cunt. It’s as if the video were an actual critically acclaimed movie with how much she’s hooked onto it. She imagines the best she could that it’s her ass that fat cock is going into, her mouth that’s being ruined, her clit that’s being rubbed. She wants it all more than anything.

“Please,” she says. Her legs cross and her voice strains to be allowed to scream. “Fuck me, use me, pound me… ‘lmost there…”

Xiaoting shuts her eyes and lets the sounds get to her: the clashing of skin, the wet squelching sounds that are either coming from her pussy or the pornstar’s, the male and female moans alike. She pumps faster, and she’s chasing her high like a starved hunter for prey. She’s chasing after it, grasping it—

“Cumming!”

The shock settles in before she squirts all over the seat. The worst thing is that she’s not able to stop the stream of girl cum coming from her pussy despite her hand halting its movements. She can’t take back her words either. Someone definitely heard that.

“Ting-ah,” says a drowsy Yujin. She lifts her head off the window and squints through blurred vision to try and make out what happened. “Did someone say anything?”

“Yes… ah, no.” Xiaoting thanks goodness that her voice isn’t brittle anymore. “I think I just, uh, spilled my water.”

“Oh. Want me to help you clean it up?”

“It’s, it’s fine,” Xiaoting declines politely and waves her off. 

(Fuck, she wasn’t supposed to dismiss her with that hand! Luckily, she explained the reason for the wetness just now. She just hopes the atmosphere doesn’t stink of fluids and cum.)

Still, long after the girl drifts off to sleep again, Xiaoting discovers that it isn’t enough. She could have the most head-numbing orgasms known to woman, but they still won’t feel as good when they’re not drawn out of her by someone else. 

So, what should she do?

-

Planes are the closest thing to the Devil incarnate. Whose idea was it to throw people into the sky where they could disappear with the wrong turn? It’s bad enough on the ground, but when you’re talking about being in the sky where the weather can pull you down without effort, the danger makes your skin crawl more.

So, when Lee told you that he booked two seats on a plane to get to the infamous hot spring, (the time of the explanation conveniently being when you were already miles from home in the goddamned car), you freaked out. That’s the lightest way you can put it.

“What the fuck do you mean we’re getting on a plane?” you ask, trying to keep your voice at a level wherein the taxi driver won’t hear your toddler-like complaints.

“Are you serious?” your friend fires back, although his title as a friend would have withered instantly if not for your genuine admiration for the guy. “It’s in Seoul, what did you expect us to do? Walk like twenty-thousand miles to get there?”

You let out a little hoarse laugh and clap your hands together sarcastically. Taking theater in high school has seriously influenced your ways. “You know I hate heights, Lee! Oh, and what a great argument you have there: using that White Chicks song to defend yourself. Really mature.”

“That’s A Thousand Miles, you moron!” Lee punches your shoulder. “I already booked a flight, so you either go through or go home. Deal with it.”

You’d have chosen the latter, but you really don’t want to drag your heavy bags home. The roads have been crossed and the wheels have rolled—you can’t back out now. It would break the whole puzzle from the first jigsaw piece to the last. 

Besides, you did tell yourself that it was time to step out of your comfort zone. It would take blocking out flashbacks of when the plane made an emergency landing back when you were four years old and on a family trip, but no one promised that it would be easy. 

The driver flashes the two of you dirty looks. You and Lee immediately take the hint to calm down and save the conversation for later.

Entering the airport and discovering that the drop-off place is underground reminds you of the second closest thing to the Devil incarnate: the cursed invention that is the elevator. 

Choose any elevator out there: an office elevator, a Barbie dreamhouse rope-controlled one, or the other unholy name they take up which is “lift.” Whatever and wherever doesn’t matter. You hate all of them equally, the contempt in your heart going out for each one that exists. It doesn’t matter which form they transform into. You will always hate them with every piece of your soul.

It just turns out that perhaps your overly paranoid gut feelings were right this time, for today, you experience the worst of not one, but two hells of your worst fears.

“You know,” say out loud as you suspiciously examine every cramped corner of the elevator, “I have to start saying no sometimes. I don’t need this, man.”

Lee scoffs. “You say ‘no’ all the time.” He tracks the numbers going up on the little screen above the elevator buttons. “You should actually start doing the opposite.”

Once again, guilt runs through your blood like a drug. It definitely won’t be a recreational one; you realize through it that all your life, you’ve sheltered yourself in a bubble where no discomfort could ever pop in and welcome itself into your home. It’s carried on into adulthood and, like that of an irritating intrusive thought, won’t leave. It’s a painful discovery, and you don’t want to think about it more.

The elevator seems to shrink around you. You can only think of how there would be the plane to not look forward to as well, and you feel even sicker.

One step at a time, buddy. One step at a time.

The gray doors part and welcome you to a floor of marble, promotional tarpaulins that hang from the high ceiling, and lots of people. You release a breath of relief.

“Look, I’m sorry, man,” says Lee. He rolls his luggage out of the claustrophobia-causing nightmare and shrugs. 

It’s his second apology of the day. He tries to play it off with small smiles, but he’s obviously down. He’s never forced you to do stuff you weren’t comfortable with until now, and because of that, it’s ruining the trip. You’re ruining the trip. It hasn’t even fully begun yet.

“You don’t have to say that all the time, you know.” 

“I know, but I…” He shakes his head. “I just want to have a nice vacation with my closest friend. I’m sorry if I keep pushing your limits—”

“My limits are anything that make me feel, like, even the slightest bit uncomfy,” you inform him with a small, lighthearted grin. “Don’t feel bad about it. You’re still a dick, though.”

“And you still don’t know what A Thousand Miles is.”

Scoff and walk faster. You and Lee meet each other’s gazes along the way and grin. It’s how you know everything’s going to work out.

Your wristwatch says that it's nearly one a.m.. Explains why your eyelids are heavy, but you keep going. If you persevere, the inevitable sleep on the flight would distract you from everything. Make your world lighter for just a few hours. Jetlag’'ll come around, though, but fending off flight anxiety is your main concern now. 

Climbing into the plane, you find your seats. Lee calls dibs on the window seat, which you have no problem giving to him. The light clouds in the dark sky and the shining city lights beneath them all may look photogenic, but it's a far cry from fascinating to you. It's a nightmare, a complete opposite from beautiful.

"Soda or coffee?" asks the flight attendant. She's pretty—she looks like she could be the Nation's Sweetheart with her youthful face and timid yet polite smile. 

(Wait…)

You don't drink either of them anyway. Soda's too carbonated, and coffee would just keep you awake. That’s the last thing you need to be. "Water, please."

"Boring," Lee says. He turns to the flight attendant. "I'll take both, if you please."

"Seat 1112, am I correct?"

"Sure are." He leans back onto the armrest and smiles.

You roll your eyes at Lee practically making heart eyes at the flight attendant. He's trying to look all cool, too. Shake your head as you drink from the water bottle the woman gave you.

"I apologize, sir, but your payment doesn't cover two drinks. May I offer you water instead?"

Water streams out of your nose. Laughs shake your chest and shoulders. The poor old lady over at the front rows looks at you curiously. A man's stifling his laughs while Lee tries to debate which party should be more embarrassed: him or you.

A fair tie?

“That was so not cool, man,” Lee grumbles. He lifts the cup full of mineral water to his lips and drinks it halfheartedly. 

“Hey, not my fault you only think with your dick.”

“Whatever. Fine.” He looks at the attendant serving other people again. “She kinda looks like IU, doesn’t she?”

You tilt your head. He could be right; you might have caught a glimpse of a camera around the corner. Maybe she was doing a variety show role? And with that face looking strikingly identical with Korea’s household name, there’s a chance that his attempt to pick the Lee Jieun up was just broadcasted on live television. 

Wipe your mouth. “You like IU, too, don’t you?” you ask.

Lee shrugs. “Her surname isn’t for nothing, ain’t it? She’s like my number two after Nayeon.”

“And you realize that you’re probably gonna get eaten up by her fans on Pannchoa if she’s really IU?”

“Yep,” your friend says with a nonchalant tilt of his head. “Who cares? Anybody in Korea would die to have IU in his life, or at least, someone who looks like her.”

You have a feeling that it foretells something that would change the trajectory of your lives forever. How and why, you don’t know. You guess you’ll just have to survive the flight to find out.

It takes a long time to get you to find out. The whole ride is a headache. Turbulence knocks the plane side to side, and you’re constantly bumped awake from your sleep. You’re thankful that you didn’t choose to get risky and choose the window seat. If you did, you’d have multiple fears of suddenly falling from the sky and into an ocean called the Middle of Nowhere. You try to get Lee to pull the small blinds of the window down to soothe your fears, but he’s too fascinated by how the clouds wisp and wane over the wings of the plane. He did give in to letting you use his blanket, though, so you decide that it’s okay.

Landing is a different story. Your palms feel numb after holding onto the armrests for so long. They lose color, stiffening upon the solid coping mechanism and persevering the best they can. While the others, especially the older men, clap politely after the plane meets earth again, you sit there breathless. 

“Wasn’t so bad now, was it?” Lee asks. He’s clapping, too, earning the approval of an old American guy to his right. 

Glower. “Fuck you."

-

You have to admit: it is quite a nice place. You'd say that to Lee, but you're still in a bad mood after the flight. 

The hot spring lifts your spirits anyway. Small well-furnished buildings reserved for the esteemed guests (a.k.a you and Lee) stand to the side while the hot spring pools are modestly curtained. Tangled lights pepper the poles, making Christmas come early. The night pairs up with it to make shadows on the grass. 

You feel like a rich man. Rich men aren’t exactly all that honest, but you’re truthful when you say that perhaps it was a good idea to join Lee on the trip.

"Now remember," Lee tells you, dressed in a pair of swimshorts like you, "the expensive places like this one separate the women from the men. So you gotta be careful."

"Sounds like my old Sunday school." Translation: easy to follow.

Sunday school also taught that greed isn’t good. That’s one thing you can’t reject because you crave for more of this place. The clear, chlorine water seeping into the grass from the brim of the pool and the large buffet set out on a long table before the hot springs all draw you closer to more than one of the seven deadly sins. You want more of this rare luxury even if you’ll bite off more than you can chew.

At least you have Lee as your partner on the highway to hell.

"All I'm saying is," he pulls back the curtain of one of the pools and gestures a welcoming hand, "be mindful 'cause—"

"Hey, what the fuck!"

You almost jump out of your flip-flops. Look around to see who screamed, then realize you have nowhere to look but forward. 

There lies (swims?) your answer: a young, red-haired woman is in the warm water, glaring as she covers up her body. There's not much to cover when her exposed tight midriff already has ample show space below the bikini, but the shock in her eyes shows that there's more to this than modesty. She was doing something she never intended to be seen.

Looks like your friend didn't live up to his words about carefulness. He just invaded the women's pool. And now you're pulled into the mess and could be fined for this and that. You're already broke enough as is, so the irritableness inside you grows again.

"Oh my god," Lee says. He looks curious despite the shock on his face. Seeing this girl is like deja vu—he swears on his life he’s seen her before.  "I'm so sorry. W-we, we didn't…we're sorry, miss—"

"It’s Xiaoting," the girl says. "Be careful, you almost gave me a heart attack!"

Her name rings a bell, but it’s only a light sound. You swear you’ve heard of her somewhere—that face belongs on magazines, and with the hot spring being the go-to for celebrities, there’s a big chance she’s a famous name. 

Lee swallows. He sees it, too. "Is it the wrong time to say that you look just like IU?"

"Don't flatter me," Xiaoting says, though the venom in her words is suddenly stranded. Those red cheeks can't be induced by the fancy lights. "You can't just disturb a girl with her me time. Fucking leave."

Me time?

Slowly, all the pieces fall into place. You realize that the shock Xiaoting showed isn’t because of the pool regulations and restrictions about the guests, but because she’s doing something far more bold. Now you understand why her fingers, still covering her top, are wrinkled even when the red locks of her head aren’t wet.

“Oh, who am I kidding?” Xiaoting rolls her eyes. “I’ve been dying to get fucked all day.” 

“What?” you ask, your voice ridden with confusion from the sudden realization.

She eyes your stomachs, quads, and faces. Her big eyes are cameras—they sweep down your body and Lee’s own with accurate focus. You suddenly feel like shrinking into a small creature just to escape the power of her stare. In one way or another, she still brings her intimidating idol persona outside of the stage.

She drops her arms from her neck and shows off the whole of her body. It’s slim yet toned, gathering the most power in her midriff lined with light abs and her thighs that look delicious even when submerged in water. The black top and bottoms hug her figure so well it’s starting to look as if she had them personally handmade and tailored to look fantastic on her. 

“And those cocks,” she continues, looking at your crotches with a lick of her lips, “look perfect. Big enough to give my insides a good rearranging, you know?”

You and Lee look at each other, then back at Xiaoting. None of you expected that, even from a woman whom you assumed just masturbated in the pool. And whose name starts to sound more and more familiar.

"Are you…" you dare to ask.

"Shen Xiaoting," she replies. She's slowly stepping out of the pool. You'd die to be the water caressing her thighs. "You know Kep1er, don't you?"

Lee nods dumbly. 

She smiles. "I thought so. I knew you'd recognize me after you said I looked like IU."

"For what it's worth," your friend says, stumbling on his words, "I like IU. A lot. I got to know you when, uh, fans on Twitter said you looked like her."

"Would you fuck me like you want to fuck her?"

Now he has no words to stumble on. "I… uh…"

"Your friend doesn’t look too sure,” Xiaoting says after she turns to you. Resting her head on one side, she adds, charmingly: “How about we show him the real deal? Make him give in?”

You can’t believe what she’s saying. It’s both too good and too bad to be true. The first factor to this that’s a pro and a con is that she’s an idol. Didn’t she just say that she’s from Kep1er? If one of the hot spring staff couldn’t keep their mouth shut, a scandal would spread on news sites and social media alike that Kep1er’s visual and main dancer just fucked a random guy. Two random guys if this escalates. 

You can’t give in.

Xiaoting massages your shoulders.

You won’t give in.

And she runs her fingers along your chest and down to the band of your swimshorts. She pulls it down.

You shan’t give in.

Afterwards. she fishes your cock out from your gray underwear. You’re hard. She’s smiling.

You’ll never give in.

She pumps it. Her hand is as soft as it looks. The added texture from the wrinkles stimulates you more in a way that’s so fucked up it shouldn’t be allowed to happen. You bite your lip to break the moan that nearly escaped your lips.

Xiaoting drops to her knees.

You give your all.

Xiaoting kisses your tip then tickles your slit with the soft edge of her tongue. You exhale too loudly for her not to grin mischievously. Her bright eyes shouldn’t look so innocent when her full lips graze along your length, sealing at the base then harshly sucking all the way backwards. But they do, and you can’t look away. 

She’s trapped you. You’re a little embarrassed at how a girl who’s only met you and knows all the risks that come with fucking you still manages to reduce you to groans because you should be the bigger person here. You should play the devil’s advocate and tell her to get away from you with her nonsense and stupidly soft lips and irritatingly beautiful face. You should push her away. Yes, she should do everything but come closer; she should—

“Fuck me,” you breathe raspily.

“‘Course I will,” Xiaoting answers with a smile that’s too pretty for her own good. She faces your friends and flashes him a quiet smile. “Jealous yet?”

“No,” Lee answers. 

“Hm. I can do something about that.”

She deepthroats you, welcoming your bulge into her tight neck and letting it thrust in and out. The closeness of her airway greets you when you push, and her slick, wet mouth begs you to come back when you exit. It leaves you in a frenzy of indecisiveness—you don’t know what to choose: keep bluntly thrusting into Xiaoting’s throat or let your cockhead glide along her lips. Again, she makes you dizzy. Helpless. Weak.

“You sure know how to suck a dick,” says Lee enviously. The tightness of his shorts can’t hide his erection. 

Xiaoting pulls back. “Oh, I do,” she says. “I can do two things at once, if you know what I mean.” She levels him with a schemeful stare. “I’m very good at it.”

“Fuck.”

“What’s wrong?” she asks meekly. Her bottom lip juts out, “Want me to show you?”

Whenever Lee watches Kep1er’s V-lives or variety shows, he takes Xiaoting as someone who’s silent but forgiving. But now that he’s actually met her, he finds out that she’s the type of girl who doesn’t take no for an answer. If it weren’t already obvious from her rubbing his cock over his bottoms and her mouth sucking you away, she always gets what she wants. She might like to play quiet and innocent, but it’s clear that she isn’t any of that.

“Oh fuck,” he gasps. Her palm’s soft and smooth over the sensitive flesh of his erection. “Xiao– Xiaoting… you’re so—”

“Oh, so now you want to fuck me?” 

“I—uh—”

“Say it.” Xiaoting replaces her mouth on your cock with a furious, pumping hand and prods your friend on. Now she’s jerking the two of you off at the same time and leaves no second for you to breathe. “Say that you want to fuck me.”

“I want to fuck you, Xiaoting,” Lee says. He closes his eyes and hisses. “We want to fuck you so bad.”

You nod in agreement. Both of your male moans fill the air, making Xiaoting’s smile grow wider. She’s finally getting what she wants, and she’s not going to stop until it blooms to something better. She can already imagine being fucked by the two of you. She bets it’ll be better than just watching an old porn video.

The cause of the thrill is recognizable. Yujin could walk into the pool at any time and scream at the boldness, and if you and Lee weren’t trustworthy, she’d end up on the news and ruin her career. It’s the risk of being caught that quickens her jerking of your cocks, that makes her smile like never before.

“You’re close, aren’t you?” she coos. “You want to cum all for me so much it’s pathetic. But I like it, so don’t you worry. And I won’t mind if you shower me with your hot cum either, so do it.”

The pace of her hand jerking you off matches the speed of the one she’s using on Lee. Your breaths and moans mix with his, and you’re driven on by the redheaded girl nodding in encouragement. Her little nods remind you of how she took your cock so effortlessly just a few minutes ago, and you’re getting worked up again. 

“Getting excited, I see,” Xiaoting remarks, noting the thrusts the two of you fire into her closed fists.  “Make sure it isn’t for nothing. Cum on my face, my body, I don’t care. Just do it.”

Her soft voice is addicting; how can it pronounce such bold, dirty words while keeping the same touch of innocence to it? You don’t know what or why, but you don’t care anyway. You’re only going after the high that’s so close you can taste it. Maybe Xiaoting can taste it. You wouldn’t want anything less than that. 

On the other hand, you could go for more.

On Xiaoting’s other hand, Lee erupts. She closes her eyes in delight as he paints her with his overflowing semen. Her delicate face is caked with the bold fluid when it shouldn’t be—Xiaoting’s face should only ever be used in sweet, nostalgic commercials, not blasted with cum. But it is, and on the first impact, she immediately lets her tongue stick out. It’s the lewd expression on her face while doing it that finally makes you explode on her. 

A lot of it ends up on her face, but the lucky droplets slide down to her mouth. Xiaoting’s heart bursts with satisfaction at the most inappropriate of things, and this is the highest on the list of them. To be showered with cum by two anonymous men who could do anything with her if they please makes her shiver. She wants it. She wants you most of all.

And so when she gets up, she says, with a tone that warns the two of you that consequences will be consequences if you refuse: “Let’s get out of here.”

-

You end up in another place: her room. This day has just been setting change after setting change. You’re grateful that this one is well-furnished, though—any other bed would break if Lee had thrown Xiaoting like that on it. 

She likes it, however; she props herself up on the mattress after it went on with a wide smile. It’s more seductive than it should be, and for that reason, you pull off her shorts while Lee lifts her top over her body.

You’re not usually this confident. You like to stand at the side and let everything take its course. But Xiaoting just ignites something in you. She brings out a lust-crazed animal inside you that survives by fucking her numbless.

Maybe it’s her body that’s making you this way? Her arms and waist are thin, but her thighs are fuller than you expected. You part them and discover that her pussy is the same way. Her pink, puffy lips are soaked, and you’re here to clean her up.

“Oh my god, what are you doing… ahhh!” 

Xiaoting’s cry approaches a scream as you tongue her fat pussy. First, you flick her clit with a sudden expertness. Then, you latch your lips around it and give her the most powerful suction you can muster. Her wetness instantly floods your face. When she throws her head back to open her mouth, Lee comes up to make sure it’s put to good use.

“Suck me off, Xiaoting,” he tells her. “Like a good girl.”

How could she be a good girl? How could she be a well-behaved little thing when your tongue is completely ruining her, slick against her lips then wild inside her twitching hole? Xiaoting doesn’t think she can, but this is what she’s dreamed of. This is what she wanted, so she’ll go through it gladly.

Lee learns from her habits at not taking “no” for an answer and dips his hips on her face. Her lips spread and take his cock fully. She whines and tries to relax her throat to take his length, but her neck still ends up with a bulge imprinted on its flesh. 

Her engorged clit experiences the best of pleasure as your lips massage it. She finally screams and bucks her hips into your face, but you hold her down by her luscious thighs. Squeeze them, then spank them. There’s an unexpected voice inside you commanding you to pepper her creamy thighs with handprints again and again. You’d love to corrupt the paleness of her soft flesh with red. Mark her that way. Tell her that she got what she wanted. You want to see her twitch and cry and moan for more, and you want to give it to her since hell, who are you to reject Shen Xiaoting?

So, you give in to the voice. Let it control you and raise your hand to her right thigh. You squeeze in time with Lee’s thrusts into her mouth. Her lower body lifts off the bed, but you pin her down again anyway. As revenge, her thighs curl around your head and keep you locked to her center. But it can’t be revenge when you relish it, can it?

“Fuck, her mouth is so fucking good,” Lee groans. His balls hit Xiaoting right in her pretty face, and she makes sure to dedicate at least a few licks to fuel his lust. “Told you this vacation was gonna be good. Getting a pretty girl to use.”

What are you even supposed to say to that? Your fears get the best of you again. You’re afraid to sound off to Xiaoting if you say the wrong word. Her pretty cunt just addles your brain that no words can be formed. They translate into actions, like pulling your lips away from her pussy and rubbing at her clit.

“Hnnnn!” Xiaoting cries. Her hips gyrate, and it’s your job again to keep her on the bed. You can’t do anything about the wet sheets, though. You can’t stop Xiaoting’s violent squirting as your rubbing at her core grows more frequent and harsh.

Lee pulls out of her mouth. A rain of white damages her face, but it’s the very storm in which she screams to the fullest. She’s tapping out, unable to handle the furious flicks at her clit. She barely has the strength to lift herself up, but she tries anyway for the purpose of seeing how her squirt flashes out from under her engorged clit, where you thumb and lick energetically. 

“Fuck, fuck, I can’t!” she says, eyes not bothering to open anymore. “Please make me cum more, I can’t take it!”

Her words contrast each other, but you take the initiative to avoid stopping. You slip two fingers inside her to fill her desperate pussy and place your lips on her nub. Your rhythms are mismatched, but they’re perfect enough to make Xiaoting’s toes curl. 

“Look at these pretty tits,” Lee says. He comes up from behind Xiaoting to wrap his hands fully around her small, painted chest. Pinching her nipples, he kisses her neck. “So perfect. You like this, Xiaoting?”

What other answer is truthful except for the whiny, shouted “Yes!” she replies? 

Xiaoting leans back into his chest and kisses him. While Lee toys with her sensitive nipples as she screams and begs, you suck her clit harshly. It pulses between your lips. Although it’s clear you’re draining her, stopping is an impossibility. You’re high on Xiaoting, and you want to do everything but come down.

“Cum— cumming, cumming so hard!” she mumbles. Lee’s kisses on her neck rake up her sensitivity. “Please make me cum, gonna cum again, too much, please!”

As she promised, your mouth is filled again with her sweet nectar. You could live on it; you could have Xiaoting sit on your face each day for her cum to heal your shortcomings as if you were a god. But you decide that’s enough for now, and sighs heavily in relief. She relies on your friend’s chest to keep herself up.

“Y-you eat me so well,” she says appreciatively. “You’re so good.”

Your blush is almost as red as her hair. “Thanks, I guess,” you respond bashfully. 

“Hey, didn’t I fuck your mouth good, too?” Lee asks. He’s a little jealous hearing you get praised instead of him. Xiaoting is one of his heroes, that being the reason why he wants her approval, too. 

Xiaoting, suddenly full of energy, sits up straight and taps her chin. “I don't know, can your dick even fill me properly?”

You raise your brows. It’s a solid reminder that you and Lee may have spent all night ruining her body, but she still is the puppeteer. Her status, wants, and pretty face drag you around like strings, having you do whatever she wants you to do. She’s just insanely good at making it seem that you could do whatever to her. If she weren’t an idol, she could have been an actress.

“Oh yeah?” Lee sits up, too, and tries to hide the offense in his face. 

Xiaoting meets his gaze, unfaltering. “You heard me.”

“Alright then, I’ll fill you up,” he offers. He rises from the bed and stands with you. “He’ll fuck your mouth. Call it a spitroast, then we’ll see who’s better.”

Xiaoting’s eyes sparkle. He really doesn’t have a clue, does he? But he’s cute, and as much as she’d climb heights to avoid admitting it, he has a big cock. She can't wait for it to fill her up.

Excitement grips her skin as Lee pulls her up and bends her over the bed. His cock teases her hole. You take your place in front of Xiaoting. 

The first spank resounds. She winces, but she's biting her lip. You can see every lewd expression she makes with your position before her. You slap your cock on her cheek, and she moans delightfully. 

"That feels so good," she says, through ragged breaths. She runs a hand through her Ariel hair and smiles. Her grin glints with charm. "Come on, boys. Use me. You can do that for me, can't you? And—fuck."

Her pussy, still sensitive, reels helplessly. Lee has his cock penetrating her thighs, nudging her clit. It isn't even the real thing but she's already so weak. 

"Your thighs are amazing, Xiaoting," he tells her. 

"I know. Fuck them all you want, but don't forget to fill me up. You," she looks up at you and smirks, a fatal attack to your poor heart, "blow a big load in my mouth, okay?"

You nod. You brush your cockhead on her soft lips, then slowly enter her mouth. It's still as good as the first time, for her tongue knows how to work wonders on your length. She's all wet and hot, and although you envy Lee for having the chance to fuck her pussy, you think that this is good for now.

You and Lee pump into Xiaoting quickly. Both of her holes are incredibly wet. While her slick walls contract and hold on to his cock, her warm mouth moistens your length with sheen-coated pleasure. You're both knocking into her body, feeling her all over the place—her small bouncing tits, the ripples of her perfect ass, her wide hips; no place is left untouched. 

And, despite the violence of the intercourse as you fuck Xiaoting on both ends, she likes it. 

She doesn’t need to bob her head anymore to let your girth into her tight throat; Lee’s harsh thrusts from behind drive her mouth to swallow more of you. You’ve got your fingers in her hair, gathering them in one tight tail, so that there won’t be hindrance in facefucking her. So far, her face is the most perfect thing to fuck. Your hand, though a familiar dream, can’t compare to the way her eyes sparkle when her gaze meets yours, or the hollowing of her cheeks when she dares to push her limits. 

Or maybe she’s just that pretty.

“Too much for you now, Xiaoting?” Lee asks. He’s gripping the soft cheeks of her bubble butt then teasing the puckered hole. 

“You wish,” Xiaoting says, pulling away from your cock and jacking it off. You can’t really see her when she turns her head to your friend, but you can just tell that she’s got on the most bratty expression. Even her words alone can entice Lee to fuck the brat out of her.

“What about now?”

Xiaoting shimmies away after he slips a finger inside her tight asshole. Desperate not to show her vulnerability, she places her mouth on your cock again. Her moans reverberate and create breathy pleasure on your length, and you start to fuck her harder. You know she’s enjoying it; her face never shows anything other than bliss, and her moans increase despite her filled mouth. 

All her holes are filled, and it’s going further than she’s ever dreamed of. Your touch is everywhere, and she tries to sink into it wherever it goes, but it keeps roaming. She can’t keep up with the thumb on her clit. Or the fingers spreading her virginal ass. Or your cock defiling her mouth. Or—

“More, f-fuck!” 

The suction of her pretty lips increases. Xiaoting’s eyes are squeezed shut. The room fills with screams and she clenches down so hard that Lee fills her insides earlier than he’d like. 

“Holy shit, that’s it, Xiaoting,” he says. His groans almost match her screams. “Fucking cum all over this cock.”

Their cum mixes together, a lewd liquid that drips down the thighs he fucked earlier. Her moans are strained cries, ones you muffle with a few remaining thrusts. She counts your thrusts just like she did whenever she dances at the practice room, timing her licks with them. More witness dribbles down her skin at your moans, and she evokes more out of you as she swallows your complete length all in one go. Restricted by the closeness of her throat, you’ve no choice but to cum inside her mouth. 

“Xiao– Xiaoting…” You’ve lost all control over balance and logic. You sit back down heavily on the edge of the bed and try to keep up with your breath.

Xiaoting licks your cockhead one last time. She laughs when it twitches. Her lips are lined with white, hot cum. “You don’t talk much,” she says, then, as she pointedly looks at Lee, continues, “but you’re really cute.”

“That’s it.” Lee’s a jealous guy. He ’t take the poorly veiled method Xiaoting’s too good at: riling him up. He doesn’t let envy take hold of what he does, but now, lust has corrupted his mind. He was too turned on by the sight of Xiaoting’s perfect back curving with his thrusts, at the sloppy sounds of her blowjob. Everything about her oozes of sex, which is what he’s happy to do to her.

He throws her on the bed again. The soft landing doesn’t save the bounce of her ass, nor does it take away the pleasurable pain of Lee spreading her legs. Lee’s face is flushed with lust and jealousy. He takes it all out in slapping the puffy cunt the best he can. 

Xiaoting cries out with satisfaction when he spanks her cunt, even parking her crotch further into his hand. “Fuck, yes, keep doing that!” 

“Brat,” Lee spits. You’re silent, but you secretly agree with him, too. Xiaoting’s a bigger brat than she poses herself as.

“Alright,” she says. Raised brows, upturned smile, she quips: “Then fuck me like one.”

She isn’t denying it or anything, but she is running away from the consequences of being one. She’s gauging the reaction she wants from the two of you, making it seem like it’s the perfect thing to do to put her in her place when she’s only rising above. She seems to love the reaction Lee makes:

“I’ll go for her ass,” he says, pulling her into his lap. As he does, his cock slips inside the ringed hole. Xiaoting’s cracked gasp fills your ears. “You can have a turn on her bratty cunt.”

More sounds of lewdness and pleasure spill from her pretty mouth when Lee pushes his fingers inside her pussy and spreads the walls apart. You watch, with strange hooked fascination, as Xiaoting writhes at Lee scissoring his fingers inside her. Cum ribbons his fingers, but he keeps going, determined to batter Xiaoting down into a desperate passive. You’d say it’s working, for what it’s worth.

“Hnnn, so hot, I can’t—!” She looks down at her fingerfucked pussy and hisses. “Haah, fffuck, please don’t stop!”

Lee doesn’t stop for a while. He continues fucking her pussy with his digitis until she squirts. All the while her voice reaches new pitches. He ends with slapping her crotch over and over, wetting his hands with her liquid.

“Oh, oh god, so good!” she screams. You squeeze her taut nipples and rub your cockhead on her clit. “Keep doing that, I’m ‘bout to cum so hard!”

“Again?” you ask. She looks up at you, surprised you’re speaking, but her gaze breaks at your cock filling her entrance up. “You’re a little cumslut, aren’t you? It’s all you ever want to do: cum all over cock.”

Despite her surprise, she nods. It’s true, anyway, so what’s the point in denying it? And there’s really not much time to put up a fight when the two of you are filling both of her holes. 

Her ass aches, but Lee’s in heaven—her tight little asshole is heaven itself. The cum and wetness from her pussy serve as good lubricant to slide in and out of her, to spread and slap her bouncing cheeks. You’re in heaven, too, despite the sin you make of thrusting into Xiaoting’s silken cunt like it depends on your life. At times, you pull out to rub your cock on her lips, enjoying the puffed texture of it and the whine of need she makes.

Kisses are everywhere. You pepper Xiaoting’s lips with them, too engaged with how soft her lips are to regard the fact that your friend’s literal cock has been there, and Lee kisses her arms. You’re both keen on ruining all of her body, and that involves marking her as your own. For this night, anyway, but the night is still young; while it lasts, you might as well up the tempo of your thrusts and grope her body as much as you like.

You find that the parts of her form that you appreciate the most are her face, thighs, and pussy. You loved to paint her pretty face with your load, corrupting the innocence it exudes. You relish thinking, too, of how her thighs served as earmuffs around your head and almost crushed you with how full and muscular they are. Plus, her pussy’s so perfect, so tight that you don’t think you’d want any other. It clenches and grips with every thrust, sends her hands flying to the sheets and on the side of Lee’s face.

Shen Xiaoting’s insatiable. 

“So fucking big inside me!” she’s screaming, grabbing your ass so you’re compelled to ram deeper. Her eyes are wide, and her breaths barely come out anymore.  “Fuck my little pussy with that big cock, please, da—”

Lee vents his anger out on her clit. He abuses it with firm, circular rubs that make Xiaoting’s hips twitch into your cock. There’s truly no escape from the pleasure—there’s her ass filled repeatedly, and the violent thrusts in her cunt. Now, there’s the pinching of her nipples and the rubs on her clit to deal with. She could scream and crawl and whine, but mercy isn’t in the dictionary for tonight. She’s going to be fucked hard, just the way she wanted, and she’ll have to cope with it one way or another.

You part her legs as far as they could go. You’re impressed at how flexible she is; her years as a dancer have certainly brought good fruit. With this position you’re able to hold her thighs as much as you want while fucking her cunt deeper. Lee’s given the chance to bounce her ass on him with no trouble. Lastly, Xiaoting’s put in a state of bliss—to the front, she’s filled and from the back, she is, too, and she doesn’t think she could hold on much longer. There’s too many things going on: her nipples being toyed with and squeezed, her thighs being spanked, her clit being assaulted. She’s so close to another orgasm that, like the others, have gone uncounted.

It’s messy when she cums. The whole thing has been fluids upon skin and skin upon fluids, but this one in particular is plentiful. IHer cum spurts everywhere in a profane splash right into your and on the sheets. She’s screaming, too, a bunch of words that can’t be deciphered properly. It sends off the right message, anyway: she’s cumming more.

You quickly move over to Xiaoting’s nipples when you feel your climax approaching. It’s induced by curiosity, and it gets the better of you; swipe your tip side to side on her small, perky nipples. The new sensation is strange, but it sets a flame of pleasure on your length. Xiaoting moans, guiding her breast to your cockhead, and chewing on Lee’s bottom lip. 

Eventually, the stamina subsides, and all three of you collapse on the bed. No word is exchanged for a long time.

-

“You,” says Yujin menacingly, pointing accusingly at Xiaoting with a single index finger with utmost anger on her face, “are in so much trouble.”

Xiaoting wipes her hair down with a towel. It was difficult to shower when her legs could barely hold her up, but it’s done now. She has nothing to worry about. Technically, there is more to worry about: Yujin’s discovered what secret she’s been hiding, and she’s furious. But, to her surprise, she isn’t pent up about it. If anything, she’s rather proud.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she replies. A white lie for a dark sin is still not counted, right?

“I… I saw you,” Yujin goes on. She’s walking around with Xiaoting as the younger girl paces in the room. “I saw you get out with those two guys!”

“And why would you assume anything happened?”

“Because there’s fucking cum on the floor, Xiaoting!” 

"Well." Xiaoting raises her hands in the air and sits down on the bed. "A girl’s gotta have fun.”

-

Unknown Number sent a message:

Hey ;)

If you want to do that again

You know where to call me

I’ll be waiting </3

[pinkthrone445]

"A Blessing from God"

Pairing:Melissa Schemmenti x Reader

Gender: hurt, very fluff.

Warnlings : (+18) strong words, mention of sex, vulgar language, homophobic coments, church talking and mention of God.

Summary:Melissa decides to accompany Barbara to church one day, she never thought she would find the love of her life there. When she realizes that the priest, meaning, your father, is homophobic, treats you badly and hurts you , decides to defend you from him and take care of you.

DON'T FORGET TO REBLOG ❤️

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

-"Come on! come with me to church, I always ask you and you never go! The other day you said you'd be willing to kill for me, so come on, come on Melissa, you'll have a good time, I promise."- Barbara begged her friend for the tenth time in the same day and the redhead looked at her seriously, taking off her glasses and putting aside the notes she was reviewing

-"Barbara, killing someone is easier for me than going to church for the first time in ten years, plus I have a feeling that if I go to church, the moment I set foot inside, I'll set myself on fire or be struck by lightning and I'm too beautiful to die" -The redhead commented, laughing at the sight of her friend's face

-"Please Melissa, my husband won't be able to attend and I don't want to go alone, plus it's not a reunion thing, it's just a day of recreation in the church park, there will be food, games and music. Please think of it as a return for that time I threatened a church member because you asked me to do so to get funds for the school"-The brunette looked at her earnestly, and she sighed

-"Okay, I'll go with you, but only because I love you and because there's food, but if they try to do a group hug or want us to sing together, I'll leave," Melissa said and her friend clapped her hands excitedly

-"Perfect! I'll be waiting for you on Saturday! Really, thank you Melissa, I appreciate it so much" - The eldest replied and the redhead waved her off with her hand.

When Saturday arrived, Melissa tried to think of an excuse not to go, it's not that she didn't believe in God, her house had a couple of crosses and she wore a chain with one around her neck every day, even her family was very religious. Her faith wasn't the problem, she just didn't like going to church, she found it tedious, God was everywhere all the time, not limited to one place.

The redhead sighed, honking her horn at her friend's house and waiting for her to come out so she could drive to church. When they arrived, the two friends were a great contrast, Melissa was serious and frowning without greeting almost anyone, Barbara was smiling from ear to ear waving and talking to everyone. The eldest was very happy to be able to share this with her friend, she liked to be with her and share aspects of her life, especially those that were happy occasions like that one.

After having greeted almost everyone, along with Melissa's complaints about so many people who wated to hug her, they went to the appetizer table. While they were choosing what to eat, something, or rather someone, caught the redhead's attention. A young woman in her twenties something or thirties in a flower dress was teaching and playing with some little kids. The children looked at her adoringly, following and paying close attention to what the girl told them, she smiled the hole time looking at them with great tenderness and exaggerated her expressions to make the children laugh and keep their attention, she even made funny voices and that made the redhead laugh when she heard her talking. The children were entranced by the woman who was teaching them, and Melissa was in the same state, unable to take her eyes off the young woman, she had never seen someone who looked so angelic, even the sunlight seemed to go from her hand every time she moved, accompanying her in every step she took to establish her beautiful smile. Apparently, Melissa had stared at the young lady so much, that she had felt it and looked up scanning the crowd looking for someone, a small smile appeared on the lips of the youngest when she saw the redhead looking at her, she barely nodded her head in greeting, to return her attention to the children. So bewitched was the red-haired woman watching her that she didn't hear the five times her friend called her name, it wasn't until the older one gently tapped her arm that Melissa came back to reality

-"Where were you? I lost you for a moment, I was talking to you and you didn't listen to me"-Melissa turned to see her friend smiling like a fool

-"I was in paradise, I believe the spirit of god came into me and blessed me with a beautiful vision"-Melissa spoke jokingly- "What did you need?"

-"I was telling you that there was going to be a talent show, in case you wanted to go and see"- the eldest spoke and her friend nodded accompanying her to the stage that people had set up in the middle of the venue. As they watched the various "talents," children dancing, groups playing instruments, some comedies, and a puppet show, Melissa couldn't avoid her eyes from wonder off to the woman she'd seen before, who was closer to her than before, because she was also watching the talent show with the children. A particularly horrible singer made Melissa look back at the stage with a disgusted face, her friend laughed at the sight of her

-"I know, he sings horribly, and yet every year he comes back on stage to sing... Years ago, when the pastor's daughter showed up to sing, no one else did it because no one could compete with her, that young woman was a blessing for the ears, everyone always knew that she was the guaranteed winner, no one could overshadow her. But since she no longer performs, many dream of singing like she did..."-Barbara commented, and Melissa looked at her curiously

-"What happened to the pastor's daughter? Why doesn't she sing anymore?" - The red-haired woman asked and followed with her gaze where her friend was pointing, she was surprised to see that she was pointing to the young woman who had caught her attention since she first saw her-"Is that the pastor's daughter?" - She asked and her friend nodded sighing

-"That young woman has been through a lot, she was dating another woman from the church, when her girlfriend cheated on her and she found out, she broke up with her girlfriend, but the girlfriend got angry and told the pastor that they had been a couple for a while. The pastor couldn't bear to have a lesbian daughter so he began to punish her for her 'sin', forbade her to sing in the band where the young woman was, forbade her to participate in the church choir and removed her from all activities where there were other women. He only lets her work taking care of the children, otherwise she has to be by his side all the time... Her mother abandoned her when she was little because she couldn't stand her father anymore, her grandmother took care of her but since she passed away two years ago, she has been alone with him, suffering how he punishes her only because of her sexual orientation. He's a good man to others, but he treats her like garbage. I tried to do something for her, but since he's the pastor, they didn't pay much attention to me. In addition, the other elders and members of the church treat her like the plague because they also think that she is a sinner, as if they were not worse, cheating on their partners, having lovers and stealing money from the church..."-Her friend spoke without holding her tongue, used to speaking freely with her friend. Melissa listened very carefully to everything the eldest said about the pastor's daughter.

-"Let's say hello to her, so you can introduce her to me formally and she doesn't feel left out because some people don't greet her because of who she is" - Melissa commented and her friend agreed by walking next to the young woman

-"Good morning (Y/N)" - Barbara said, catching your attention, making you turn around smiling kindly

-"A good morning indeed dear Barbara, how are you? How is your family?" -You asked sincerely and looked at the redhead too - "Good day for you too, it's nice to see new faces here" - You said smiling at her and Melissa was convinced that miracles did exist, miracle was to see you smile

-"The family is fine, my husband had to work and that's why he didn't come, but I brought a friend to keep me company"-said the eldest waiting her friend to introduce herself, but Melissa was too dumb looking at you to interpret the situation

-"I guess you're Melissa Schemmenti, Barbara talks a lot about you, she always tells me stories from school that make me laugh, I like you even though I didn't know you before"-you replied sincerely smiling and the redhead laughed silly listening to you and clarified her voice

-"I hope she only told you the good things, a pleasure to meet you"-She kissed your cheeks in greeting and made you blush a little

-"Sadly she only told me the good things, although I still think the bad things are more fun to hear" - you replied and the redhead laughed loudly, she didn't waited that answer from you

-"Do you have time? Because I have a lot of funny stories to tell you then..." - She smiled seductively and you couldn't help but see from the corner of your eye how your father approached, making you tense, the eldest saw your change of attitude and turned to find a tall man, dressed in a suit, looking at you with seriousness, without a doubt it was your father, the pastor.

-"Good morning ladies, daughter"-greeted the man, you and Barbara returned the greeting but Melissa didn't, she just looked at him seriously.-"I couldn't help but come to say hello to the new face, it would be nice to see you again in the church, it always makes us happy to have new people" - your father commented and Melissa nodded looking at him with superiority

-"Don't worry, you will definitely see me again, I found something in your congregation that caught my attention enough to keep coming" - commented the redhead with a double meaning looking at you out of the corner of her eye, your father didn't notice thinking she was talking about the church, but Barbara and you did, making you blush, you apologize to them and walked away to continue taking care of the children. The redhead couldn't get another chance to talk to you that day.

Melissa went to church several weeks in a row after that interaction, enduring the pastor's tedious sermons, only to see you for a few minutes and talk to you. Her friend Barbara was happy to spend more time with her friend, even though she knew the true purpose of why she was going to church.

Seeing the redhead so regularly, you began to take a liking to her, she always spoke to you affectionately and made you laugh with her unexpected comments. You never imagined her as a religious woman, but you were happy to see her go to church every week. After talking to her so much, the two exchanged cell phone numbers to, according to her, "make an arrangement to go out so she could tell you more funny anecdotes".

After a couple of casual 'dates' (they weren't dates, but they weren't outings like you used to have with your friends either) you ended up going to school on open house day, Melissa invited you to hang out since according to her, many parents never attended those hours, so it would be a good time to distract yourself and laugh for a while. After you had made a homemade pizza, you went to the school to visit her. You breathed a sigh of relief when you saw a familiar face when you passed Barbara, who looked at you in surprise to see you there. After explaining to the eldest that her friend had invited you, she explained where the redhead was and you went in search of her.

You spent the whole night with her, eating, chatting, taking a tour of the school and her classroom, even playing poker together. Melissa had so many more entertaining and funny stories, you could spend hours listening to her. Unfortunately you had such a good time with her that time was always short, it was never enough. Before you knew it it was time to go home, without much encouragement you said goodbye to her and left.

Melissa was gathering her last belongings when her friend Barbara entered the room, a small laugh escaped the older one when she saw how the redhead smiled, whenever she saw you she smiled much more than usual, even her mood was better

-"Someone's happy... It had never occurred to me that you would invite her here, it's one thing to go to church to see her, but it's another thing to invite her to your work and introduce it to all your colleagues..." - the eldest commented and Melissa raised her shoulders smiling

-"We've become good friends over the past few months, I like her company, she is funny, she is nice to be around, she..."-she started talking without thinking and smiling like a fool thinking about you

-"I think you don't just like her company, I think you like her... Could it be that Melissa Schemmenti is in love with the pastor's daughter?" - The older one joked and Melissa just laughed

-"Don't talk nonsense Barbara, let's go or they're going to close the school with us inside" - The redhead said and walked into the parking lot with her

-"Since you're such good 'friends', did she tell you that tomorrow is her birthday?" - Barbara asked and the redhead denied -"they are going to celebrate it in a restaurant, you should come with me, I'm sure it will make her very happy to see you there"-The redhead nodded excitedly but couldn't help the pain she felt at having to find out from someone else that it was your birthday and that you weren't the one who invited her.

The next day, the red-haired woman dressed in her finest clothes and went to the address her friend gave. It was a very fine restaurant and with almost all the tables occupied, in one of them, there was you, your father, a girl with a baby that she didn't know and some people from the church, Barbara hadn't arrived yet. At the end of the table sat your father and next to him you, with a very serious face and she saw that you were uncomfortable, whenever he was close to you, you looked uncomfortable.

Melissa came to your side smiling and hugging you from behind, she hoped that it would make you happy to see her, but you only looked surprised and a little sad

-"Melissa... What are you doing here?" - You whispered and didn't hug her back, that hurt a little bit but she didn't let it show

-"Barbara told me that today was your birthday, since you never told me or invited me, I thought I would surprise you" - commented the redhead seeing how your eyes were a little watery-"Doesn't it make you happy that I'm here?"- she asked with pain in her voice

-"It's not that, I'm happy to see you" - you replied quickly-"it's just that..."

-"Melissa!" - Your father interrupted you to greet the redhead, who barely looked at him, she didn't like your father and she didn't do anything to hide it-"It's good to see you here, I asked my daughter who she wanted to see on her birthday but she didn't tell me anyone, so I invited who I thought she would want to see, sorry for not thinking of you."-Your father said in a kind tone that hid contempt

-"I didn't tell you anyone because I didn't want to celebrate... And you came up with the idea of inviting my ex with his partner and his son, among people I barely talked to...Thank you for that, father"-You commented sarcastically, you weren't in a good mood, you hated your birthday, and your father knew it

-"I invited more people, but they didn't want to come because they know what you're... And I only invited her because I thought she would be a good influence to you, you used to be very good "friends" and she is now with a man, I invited her to see if her way of being sticks with you"-He commented defiantly and you sighed, it was too early on the night and there were too many people to argue so you just put your head down, there was no point in responding to that comment. Melissa stood between you and your father, acting as a human shield with her body, preventing your father from looking at you

-"Really? Is the woman who not only had sex outside of marriage, but committed adultery and cheated, a good example? A woman whose only reason to confess her sin is that she couldn't abort that child because she realized too late that she was pregnant of her lover , that's your good example? I knew you were homophobic but not an idiot and a moron too-Melissa said angrily and turned to look at you, but you were no longer behind her, you were no longer in the restaurant. After searching for you for a few minutes, she found you outside the restaurant hugging yourself because of how cold the night had gotten. She carefully walked over and pulled her leather jacket over your shoulders

-"hey... Are you okay honey?"- She asked with real concern and saw that you were crying when you turned to look at her

-"I wanted you here... I wanted to spend my birthday with you, you're probably the only person I want to spend it with... But I didn't invite you because I knew this was going to happen, I hate celebrating my birthday, I don't have anyone to spend it with, I don't have my mother, I don't have my friends anymore and thanks to my father no one from the church wants to be seen with me. I hate my birthday because since my grandmother died, there is nothing about this date that makes me happy, there is no one to celebrate with me, celebrate me. This date is only useful to tell me everything I've been doing wrong all the years of my life. I didn't invite you because I feel like you're the only good thing left in my life and I didn't want to ruin that by getting you together with my father"-You sighed in pain and teary eyes, immediately the redhead hugged you to her chest, hiding you in her embrace

-"I'm sorry sweetheart, I didn't know, you don't deserve any of this, your father doesn't deserve to have you" - she whispered and kissed the crown of your head-"I've got an idea. What if we leave right now? We're already outside..."-she smiled

-"Where? What about my dad" - You asked just walking away from her so you could see her face but still hugging her

-"He can suck it, let's go home, I can cook for you, maybe gnocchi, I remember you telling me it was your favorite food when your grandmother cooked for you. We can watch a movie. If you want we can invite Barbara and the guys from school, you know they love you, maybe put a karaoke on TV and sing a little, I also have ice cream at home. What do you think?-The redhead asked with a big smile looking into your eyes, she wanted to do everything to make you happy. Without you being able to think or process what you were doing, you kissed her. No one had ever cared enough about you to defend you from your father and take care of you as she did. The redhead was shocked and stood still, causing you to pull away in embarrassment. Even if she didn't reciprocate the kiss, she did grab your waist tighter

-"I'm so sorry Mel, I don't know what got hold of me, I wasn't thinking clearly... I'm sorry..." -You murmured quickly and she caressed your cheek affectionately

-"Don't apologize sweetheart, you didn't do anything wrong, but is better if we go home, then we can give each other as many kisses as you want, but not here because your father can come out at any moment to yell at us, and I don't know if this time I will be able to contain my desire to hit him"-The redhead spoke in her strong Phili accent and you nodded as you got into her car.

After a short trip, the two arrived at Melissa's house. You really appreciated what she was doing for you, she was a woman who was very protective of her personal space and didn't invite just anyone to her home, you felt privileged to be there. While she was cooking, you looked at the pictures that were all over the house, she looked so happy in all of them, even the ones where she was fighting with her sister. Your body jumped a little when you felt the redhead hug you from behind, she ran her hands around your waist and rested them on your abdomen, resting her head on your shoulder

-"The food is almost done" - she whispered in your ear, you smiled and relaxed in her arms leaning more against the woman's body - "How are you feeling? Do you want me to invite the others?" - she asked softly and you shook your head

-"No, I just want to be with you, if that's okay with you. I'm calmer now, I feel relaxed and safe..." You commented sincerely, and the redhead smiled as she heard you.

-"It's your special day, we'll do everything you want"-the eldest whispered and kissed your cheek, carefully, she reached into her pocket and took out a small delicately wrapped package and put it in your hands-"happy birthday darling" - you smiled looking at her and when you opened it, you found a chain with a gold cross, you looked at the woman's neck and saw that she was missing her cross, the gift was her necklace, the one she wore every day and that you always admired because of how delicate it looked. You examined the gift, you saw that it was engraved "God loves you just as you are." You smiled more with your eyes a little watery

-"It's beautiful"-You whispered smiling, she took it out of your hands and placed it on your neck gently, giving you a small kiss on your lips, barely noticeable but it made you blush

-"Now you'll have something to remind you of me and remind you that there's nothing wrong with you, you're perfect" - she whispered and kissed your forehead, her thumb wiping a small tear that run down your cheek, then she hugged your waist-"Now let's eat before it gets cold"

Carefully and still hugging you, she led you into the kitchen and made you sit on the counter while she put a large portion of gnocchi on a plate with a great amount of cheese. Delicately she spread your legs and positioned herself in the middle with the plate in hand, with the fork, pricked a couple of potato doughnuts, blew them and put them in your mouth for you to eat, it was fucking delicious. You stayed like that for a long time, the two eating from the same plate in comfortable silence while looking at each other adoringly.

When you finished, Mel put the plate on the counter and took your hand gently caressing it

-"Would you like us to take a bath together? Maybe watch a movie in bed together after that..." - she whispered and kissed your hand-" or do you want to do it alone?... "

-"I would like do it with you"-You answered just in a whisper and she nodded going up the stairs with you and guiding you to the bathroom of the room, once there, she began to undress after having filled the bathtub. For your part, the only thing you could do was admire her, she was a beautiful woman and her body was too, her body was not like a young woman's, it was the body of a experienced lady, some marks here and some there, but that only made her more perfect. Melissa turned to see if you were undressing, but when she saw how you looked at her, a shiver ran through her body, you didn't look at her with lust, you looked at her with all the love in the world, as if she were the most beautiful woman in the whole universe. Carefully she came over and hugged you by the waist making you come out of your trance, delicately she put her hands under your blouse and helped you undress, then together you got into the bathtub, she behind and you in front of her, resting your back on her chest and closing your eyes. Not a word was shared, but it wasn't necessary at all. Mel carefully stroked your hair, massaging and washing it, kissing your shoulder every now and then

-"Mel?" - Your voice broke the comfortable silence, she hummed encouraging you to continue. You turned your head sideways to look at her out of the corner of your eye, and she smiled- "Why do you do all this?... The food, letting me come to your house, confronting my father, the necklace, the bath, the affection?..."

-"Because you deserve it, you deserve to be celebrated and happy, you deserve to feel loved, you deserve all the love..."-The redhead took your cheek and caressed it- "You deserve to be happy and I want to be one of the reasons that make you smile" - She smiled looking into your eyes and kissed you gently, as if you had all the time in the world, as if nothing and no one else existed. She kissed you like if you were all she needed to live. You had a long time kissing and enjoying each other's company, until the water got cold and you had to get out. Melissa carefully dried your body and then gave you one of her squared shirts to wear to sleep. Together you lay on the bed and you snuggled up on her chest to watch a movie, before you knew it, you had already fallen asleep while she was hugging you and playing with your hair. The best birthday of your life.

The next morning, you woke up late and Melissa was no longer in bed, you carefully went down watching her make breakfast while she hummed a song, you carefully hugged her from behind and rested your head on her back, the redhead smiled and turned to hug you against her chest kissing the crown of your head, the aroma of food and her perfume relaxed you more

-"I don't think I've ever slept so relaxed and peaceful in my life, I feel safe when you're near me" you murmured and kissed her lips softly

-"I'm glad to hear that... By the way, you look beautiful in my shirt" - she commented and you laughed against her lips-"We need to have breakfast quickly tho, I have one more birthday surprise" - she murmured smiling and you frowned

-"Another? You've already given me a gift and done a lot for me, I don't want anything else" - you replied and she made you sit at the table serving you a plate

-"Believe me, you want to see this gift" - she whispered with a knowing smile. After you had breakfast, you changed and went out to where the redhead had planned, she didn't want to give you any clues. She parked at the church and that confused you

-"Mel, I don't want to go to church today, I know it's Sunday but I don't want to cross paths with my father... Not after he saw me go with you last night, a woman he noticed I was attracted to. He will put us to shame."-You whispered and watched as the redhead opened your door, reaching out for you to take her hand

-"Do you trust me?" -She asked and you nodded taking her hand and getting out of the car -"Then come on, I promise not to leave you alone and if you feel bad, we can leave."

The two of you walked through the doors, seeing how your father was already on stage. After welcoming everyone, he said something that left you frozen

-"Since today, I will step down from my position as priest, I have not fulfilled my duties as a loving father or as a loving guide of this church, for which I ask forgiveness. So I'll be replaced by a new priest..."-After he had finished introducing the new priest, he stepped off the platform and walked over to you, his hands in a fist and his teeth clenched. Never in your life did you imagine that your father would leave his position, much less admit in front of everyone, what a bad father he had been. He would have preferred you to disappear than leave his position and lose his influence. You knew he didn't feel any real regrets from his heart, but it was progress anyway.

From one second to the next, your father was in front of you, watching Melissa hold your hand. He glared at the redhead angrily

-"Are you happy? I did everything you said..." - He muttered under his breath

-"Almost, you need to sincerely apologize to your daughter" - The older woman commented authoritatively

-"I'm..." - Your father started to speak but gritted his teeth as Melissa hugged you around the waist, he shook his head and narrowed his eyes looking at you -"My daughter, what are you doing? Think things through, I already told you that if you start dating her or any other woman, I don't want you to go back home or to church, you'll become a bad influence, a bad person if you do this. You won't go to heaven, please think about it... You don't want God to stop loving you, huh?"-You sighed listening to him, it was always the same, manipulative shit to make you feel bad about yourself.

-"Okay, that's enough" - Melissa stopped him - "I see you're not going to apologize, so say goodbye to your position forever, also to all your 'powerful friends' and to your reputation, I'll make sure you don't get taken back in any church around the world. If your daughter wants to go back to church, she can do so, but you can't. Oh! And your daughter isn't coming home anymore, you know why? 'Cause she's going to move in with me and we'll have a lot of lesbian sex all day long"-The redhead said, facing your father. The color left the man's face, Melissa knew something you didn't, something that could ruin your father's reputation and life forever. He no longer had power over you, which made you feel relief and proudly stick out your chest

-"You know what dad? I may no be the best person, but I'm far from the worst. All my life you made me feel ashamed of myself, you made me feel that because I loved someone different that what you wanted, I didn't deserve to be loved by God or anyone else. I'd rather go to hell for having loved than for having hated like you hate me. I hope that now that you've lost your position, you really see what people think of you... I hope you change your horrible way of being, because you do have things to change, things that should make you ashamed, but I have nothing to be ashamed of. Thanks to Melissa I saw that, because she really loves me, not like you, who only pretended to show me affection when there were people around. Good luck living alone, you don't even know how to make toast... And one more thing, I want this to be the last thing you remember about me"-You commented and kissed the redhead very passionately and then walked out of the church hugging Mel.

When you two got in the car, the adrenaline left your body and you started laughing nervously

-"You threatened a priest, my father, for me?"- you asked looking at Mel and she nodded as she drove-"What if you go to hell?"

-"I had already earned my place in hell years ago, but I'd better make sure of it by defending my favorite girl from her abusive father" - Melissa smiled and placed one of her hands on your thigh while still driving

-"Thanks for that... For all of the things that you have done for me... But Mel, it is true that I have a place to stay with you? - You asked barely audible and she nodded

-"Yeah hon, we're going to go get your stuff right now" - she smiled as she stopped at a traffic light and gave you a peck on your lips- "I've already experienced once what it's like to sleep next to you, I'm not going to let you go... Also, we have to inspect every corner of the house together, if you know what I mean..."-she said with double meaning and laughed at your face , ypu were exited and very eager. This woman turned your life upside down from one moment to the next. From the first time you saw her, she was a true blessing for your life.

[magniloquent-raven]

What do you think of an AU where Billy lives post season 3 and gets adopted by Murray and Alexei?

They would probably have a dynamic very similar to the El and Hopper's one in season 2.

What do you think?

OOooo an anon blessing my inbox, hello 💜

I think it would be an absolute mess tbh. At least at first. Because Billy is difficult, and Murray is prickly at the best of times (and not above fighting with children lmao). Alexei might be the least confrontational of them, but he's more likely to get a kick out of all the arguing than try to stop it.

Mostly aimless rambling under the cut lol

I'm thinking no Hopper death fake-out in this AU? He never liked Billy much, despite how polite the kid always was when he got pulled over. Something about him always seemed off. But then he nearly died saving El. She pulls him aside while Billy's in the hospital, and with that serious crease between her eyebrows, tells him just enough to convince him Billy doesn't have a home to go back to. So he makes arrangements.

And like. Murray isn't exactly his first choice. But. He doesn't have a lot of options. He needs someone with the funds and the space to house an entire traumatized teenager, and it needs to be someone who knows what happened to him.

It's temporary, Hopper assures them. The kid's eighteen, he just needs somewhere to stay while he heals up and gets enough money together to get a place of his own. It won't be that much of an imposition. It's the right thing to do. Say yes, because he needs somewhere to go, I swear to god, Murray.

Billy treats Hopper doing him a favour like it's a punishment. He's sullen the whole way there. Silent in the passenger seat of the cruiser, a half-full duffel bag in his lap. He doesn't want to be back in Hawkins with Neil, but that doesn't mean he wants to stay with some creepy guy and his weird Russian roommate. He can take care of himself, and this charity bullshit is fucking insulting.

Thing is though, Billy doesn't outright say that. He doesn't talk that way to adults, as a rule. Neil's rule. He will say please and thank you, no matter how wooden it sounds. He takes his issues out on peers, not the people with power over him.

So he barely says two words to Murray and Alexei that first day. They're not exactly thrilled to have him around, so they're not getting in his business anyways. It's awkward. Billy holes up in the guest room Murray's been using for storage, and alternates between restless sleep and staring at the water-stained ceiling.

It takes three days for Murray to get annoyed at Billy's I'm On My Best Behaviour act. It's insincere as hell, and Murray's always hard pressed not to call people out for lying. So he prods. Under the guise of small talk, at first. He asks how Billy knows Hopper. Asks what he's planning to do once he's healed up more. Mentions that Max has called like four times and Billy has yet to even check the messages.

Which. Does not go over well. Billy knows what he's doing, Neil does it all the time. Asking pointed questions, hoping to get a rise out of him. If Billy reacts he has a reason to punish him. If Billy breaks, he's not strong enough, not good enough. He needs a firmer hand, more discipline. But just because Billy knows doesn't mean he can stop himself from snapping, lashing out, getting angry and defensive and sneering.

And then he braces himself for the fallout. A belt, a hand, an insult. Punishment for not keeping his mouth in check. It's instinct, getting keyed up, waiting, waiting...

For a hit that never comes. In fact, Murray seems relieved. Delighted. "Fucking finally," may have been his exact words.

So Billy's just wound up over nothing, without direction he's snapping at shadows, flinching and biting. But no one seems to mind the teeth.

They argue a lot after that. Billy and Murray. Over music being played too loud, and whether Billy's allowed to drink when he's still got hospital stink on him, and dumb, inconsequential shit like that. Sometimes it's not. Sometimes it's Murray saying too much and Billy tasting blood. Sometimes it's Billy getting pushy and entitled, using his scars as an excuse to take up more space than he was invited to.

Meanwhile Alexei just seems to be along for the ride. Billy teaches him some English swear words (mostly by accident and then definitely on purpose) and Alexei returns the favour. They are both absolute menaces when Murray declares he's going grocery shopping, and they've taken to teaming up about it. Murray is this 🤏 close to kicking Billy out after Billy introduces Alexei to Metallica and discovers that he likes it.

And then there's the gay thing. Like. Murray and Alexei aren't hiding their relationship, they decided it would be too much work and if the kid had a problem with it he could find somewhere else to live. But they're not super obvious either, just. Naturally. So it takes Billy a minute to realize. In his defence, he's got a lot going on.

It's not a huge grand reveal, he just sort of. Notices some things. And then puts the pieces together. And then panics. He spends the entire day after his revelation hiding in the guest room. Panicking.

He doesn't know why exactly it terrifies him so much. He doesn't have to hide from Neil anymore, and barely anyone even knows he's alive, it's not like there's going to be rumours going around about Billy shacking up with some old gay dudes. But he feels exposed anyways. Self-conscious. He starts to wonder if Hopper knew somehow, and that's why he's here. Maybe the girl who was in his head has been going around telling people about him.

The next day, he manages to come out of his room, but he isn't over it. They notice him acting weird, despite how hard he tries to keep it under wraps. Alexei figures it's a PTSD thing, they all know Billy has nightmares. He's entitled to some off days.

But Murray clocks him. Because of course he does. He flinches when Alexei touches Murray's shoulder, briefly, innocently, but Billy has to look away and that's when Murray realizes.

Not the why of it, not at first, but he realizes that Billy's being weird about their relationship. And he doesn't handle it the best. He's started to like the kid, is the thing. Billy's a pain, and he's an awful little brat, but he's grown on him. Like a hissy little cat that never lets you pet it. It's not nice, but sometimes it does cute little cat things and you're endeared anyways. Billy can be funny, sometimes. He helps out around the house but pretends not to. And he's unexpectedly smart.

And now he's being. Like this. And maybe it sort of hurts. So maybe Murray says some things he shouldn't. Pointed comments, from what Murray knows about Neil he's sure that's where this came from, and he doesn't hesitate to let Billy know that. Billy might've moved states to get away from his father but it looks like he might've brought him along for the ride anyways.

Which obviously does not go over well. And it's the way Billy responds, his fear and the cadence of his anger. That has Murray saying "Oh, this is a self-hatred thing." Without thinking.

It's the first time Billy cries in front of them.

It's not for long. A moment of shock, and tears slipping down his cheeks, he's there just long enough for them to see his face before he bolts, and locks himself in the guest room.

They don't ever really talk about that whole conversation. Not outright. It takes weeks for things to go back to normal. Billy's back to not saying much of anything, and Murray feels guilty enough not to push about it. Alexei's trying to mediate, for once, but it doesn't help. Everyone involved is too stubborn to take advice.

Months later, when Billy's a little bit drunk and a little bit sleep deprived, he finally admits out loud that Murray was right. Entirely out of the blue.

They still don't discuss the fight, not directly. They just. Talk. About growing up queer. About parents. It's a little stilted. A little awkward. But it's a turning point. And it's good.

misc. thoughts:

Alexei helped open the new gate and is therefore a little bit responsible for what happened to Billy? When Alexei realizes this he starts coddling Billy to make up for it. It's little things at first, buying him sweets and letting him choose what they watch on TV, but Billy starts to notice him walking on eggshells and gets irritated, pushing to see where this sudden grace will end. He kind of just assumes he's being treated this way because of his injuries, but when he eventually finds out who Alexei actually is and what he did shit kind of blows up. Billy straight up leaves the house for the first time since he moved in. Just walks out. Alexei tells Murray what happened and Murray gets angry at Billy, only realizing later (after Billy comes back, at like 3am) that he was so pissed because he was worried

Hopper has no idea that Murray and Alexei are together, and part of the reason Murray was so annoyed about taking in another stray is because babysitting would cut into the time he can spend with his boyfriend

Everyone in Hawkins (except the main characters) thinks Billy is dead, and this has been really hard for Max. Neil left, and she's glad he's gone, she's glad Billy's away from him and that her mother doesn't have to deal with him anymore. But it's also extremely difficult to watch her mother grieve both Billy and her marriage.

Briefly considered making that thought Billy had about Hopper putting him up with Murray and Alexei because of the gay thing actually true

[sunnywalnut]

It will NEVER not be horrifying to me to watch in REAL TIME the world forget about the GENOCIDE that is happening to Palestinians AS WE SPEAK

They have no food. No water. No shelter. No medicine. No aid.

Did we already forget about the parachutes being sent into the ocean, and the desperate people chasing after them?

Did we forget about the flour, stained with blood as bullets ripped through flesh?

Did we forget about the aid trucks, sent by Israel like a modern day Trojan horse?

And what of the nurses, the doctors that risk their lives?

The limbless children, dying from the shock of enduring these horrors with no anesthetic?

What of the lost body parts, scrapped together by desperate family members, begging for a proper burial?

The mothers cradling their wailing children, knowing that tomorrow is a luxury. That every second they spend alive is one they are not guaranteed.

What of the rotting corpses of infants, laid alone in their hospital beds as the dust refuses to settle around them?

What of the women, the men, the children made to act as animals, forced into actions that NO god would ever commend?

What of the bones that tear through their delicate skin, brought to light by man made famine? By disgusting vermin that parade around underthings and children's toys like trophies, knowing those who have owned them are now dead?

Have you forgotten?

Have you forgotten the screams?

Have you forgotten them begging?

Have you forgotten their prayers, their anger, their blinding resilience, even in the face of certain death?

HAVE YOU FORGOTTEN?

Maybe it was when you drank your morning coffee.

Or when you went for a stroll on your sunhot street.

Perhaps it was during dinner, with your family and friends.

Or maybe even when your own misfortune made it's home in your head.

Each day is a blessing, each one we have.

Each one feels stolen from another's hands.

But what if I told you, we can do both?

We can still have coffee made from home, and share their stories.

We can still walk our streets and speak of theirs that have been made into rubble.

We can still eat dinner in music filled restaurants while calling awareness to their empty bellies.

We can still have problems, while knowing other's are much worse.

That does not mean that we should starve ourselves of life.

It means that we should call to attention the ones that have been lost.

The day when more bots have found my feed than ACTUAL people has come.

The day when my messages are filled with scams while people hide in crumbling structures, hanging by a thread of hope as their Internet winks out is here.

But I will not stop talking.

I will not stop calling attention to the lives that have been lost, the horrors they have faced, and the genocide that has taken place.

This is not just genocide. And it is not just history.

It is erasure.

These people are being erased and forgotten, dropping like flies by the masses.

If a tree falls in a forest, and there's nobody around, does it make a sound?

And what of a family, what of a bomb?

When it finally lands, do you think you will hear it?

Or is it only when there are mouths left to cry?

Free Palestine 🍉

[allegraforchrist]

Hi, my (middle) name is Allegra, and it means jovial and lively- as the Italian musical term “Allegro”.

♡ I’m 18

♡ she/her

♡ female

♡ favorite verses is Lamentations 3:25-27.

♡ Favorite colors are pink, red, black and white.

♡ BLESS and FREE ISRAEL 🇮🇱

This is my blog, and I’m very excited to be on here and share God’s gospel and the teachings of Jesus Christ.

I want to make a note that, if you do not like my blog, you can ignore it and scroll on. There’s no need to be hateful or aggressive.

My blog is a non-judgemental, safe space for all Christians, youth and older, tall or shorter, all ethnicities and cultural backgrounds, all persons and those who are newer followers of Christ.

My blogs purpose is not to:

-> ‘indoctrinate’ or force opinions

-> be exclusionary or bigoted

-> express hateful or ‘guilt-trippy’ beliefs

-> suppress or oppress any minorities or marginalized communities/religions/cultures

💕 I’m sharing my love of God on a platform, and will not exercise hypocritical judgement on those who aren’t followers of Christ, and I hope the same attitude and respect can be shown towards me. I value all with respect, humility, and kindness.

🙏 Curiosity, questions, and all topics are welcome, however arrogance, and prejudice are not. I will stand strongly for my faith but I do not need to validate it to those who do not share it.

🩰 I post scriptures, Bible Study Notes, songs, art, podcasts and vents about Jesus and God, to elevate, praise and worship them. None of what I talk about is to be taken as criticism for whomever’s lifestyle choices, beliefs or practices- it is not about you.

🌸 A lot of what I post about comes from personal struggles with my sexuality, my connection to the Church, my mental health, religious affliction, and all ways that Jesus saved me. I don’t identify as bisexual or use they/them pronouns anymore, as my identity is in Christ, and I’m a woman of God. However, that doesn’t mean my page is welcome to homophobia, transphobia, queerphobia; or xenophobia, antisemitism, Islamophobia, or hate toward other Christian denominations. Nor will I tolerate allegations of hatefulness towards other communities.

🤍 Lastly, I do not aimed to be liked or respected by the masses, as I live for the approval and wisdom of God. If you don’t like that, please, as much as any opinion is valued, keep your condescension to yourself. Christian or not, there are boundaries I have.

🪽 Please Note: I cannot make any monetary donations, online or internationally via PayPal or such apps. I do not reside in the US, and I do not have independent access to funds that I could give. I want to donate and assist the best I can, however I can only petition, reblog and pray for you- as far as my current liberty goes.

Thank you so much.

Jesus loves you!!!

[ohanny]

dangerous romance: main couple mania ep. 1

so i love how sailom's instroduction is this is a budgeting king, in debt eating stolen rice porridge. he has a very pre-kinn broke ass porsche-chay dynamic with his brother (?) which is very sweet and also means it won't last five minutes.

oh okay so we get this ship sailing with a wall slam and a classic "do you understand my father funds your scholarship you poor piece of trash" and alksdflkfj

i know i am supposed to see sailom as the victim but he is like full on pete-ing this. he never breaks eye contact. he is like daring kanghan to escalate with his entire body and kanghan did not just go full "since you're my class mate i will be generous and forgive you if you get down on your knees" like that is a) spicy as fuck what the hell and b) going to backfire so hard

HE DID NOT JUST BOW 90 DEGREES JUST TO SPIT ON KANGHAN'S SHOES AND WALK AWAY WITH A SMIRK

he is puzzled by both sailom's actions and by what is happening inside his uniform shorts

honestly, kanghan is the villain here but i struggle to take him seriously as the bad guy because perth a) always looks like he is about five seconds away from bursting into tears and b) has bangs that form a literal heart. no matter how nasty kanghan tries to be - and he tries a lot - the inherent bitch baby-ness just shines through.

literal heart bangs what did i say

this entire car shop sequence is just pure gold for so many reasons. 1. kanghan shows up in his business leather pants looking like he walked off the set of enhypen's blessed-cursed music video and he's driving a mercedes. like honestly, with all that talk i was expecting a lamborghini. 2. sailom's boss actually like... needing some evidence instead of just bending over backwards to please a rich client 3. sailom fucking uno reversing that credit card sneak and humiliating kanghan with the smuggest lil good boy smile and THAT is why chimon is the ultimate snake-cat like he has a face made for scheming.

i am really loving sailom because he keeps his head, is really resourceful and will not take any shit. boy does not hesitate to drag this bastard for filth every chance he gets, beating kanghan in his own game without ever stepping down from the high road.

ooh, we are meeting kanghan's family and they are... both not as trash but also as trash as i expected? like i kinda thought more mafia vibes but if laws of attraction - and real life - has taught me anything it is that politicians are garbage.

on the surface his dad seems almost a jolly good fellow but the conversation with this random girl just confirmed there is something so much darker lurking under the surface. as much as it hurts to have a hyper critical parent, having one who has seemingly completely given up on you can be just as bad.

he's basically been called stupid twice in under five minutes. someone save him.

sailom will not be fooled by a shady ass phone call and neither will he leave a friend behind. this boy will not be distracted by tits with a side of toast. he is a man on a mission.

the way i gasped when i saw this court set up and i have so many questions. do the students just have a cardboard gotham in the basement or - based by the fact we see loose boxes and a shopping cart - did kanghan build this just to prove how big his dick is to sailom ???

chimon's acting is honestly a+ and he is carrying this show. the tension! the absolute rage that is bleeding through! the way he doesn't have to go big with gestures and expressions to convey everything sailom is feeling perfectly - and not just that. you know what sailom is feeling AND you can see his brain working.

kanghan, sweetie, you might want to take a moment and reflect on your obsession with getting this boy out of his clothes and making him kneel.

not gonna lie, i kinda saw this move coming because tropes but god was it satisfying :D the reactions of kanghan and sailom's friends are hilarious (10/10 i am evil tea, he totally ships it) and then the camera pans and you can see all these bystanders just standing stock still, filming giving major horror movie vibes and aaaaaaah

side notes:

i love how his best friend is just "auto." like his parents were "we are poor, naming the kid a vehicle will be fine. no need to bring brands into it."

auto's mom is an actual queen

the teachers are so fucking infuriating but also, that is kind of a sad truth? even when it's not like RICH rich people involved. like for too many adults, it is easier to it off as kids being kids and boys being boys over having to deal with the why and the parents and the drama of it all.

i was bullied in school so like this bubble tea waterboarding makes me feel some type of way? like some of the bullying is very oof-spicy-trope but a lot of it is actually cruel and i really wouldn't recommend this show to anyone who gets triggered by stuff like school violence.

[harrisonarchive]

George Harrison, his father Harold, Olivia, Billy Preston, Ravi Shankar, and the whole Dark Horse Tour band visiting the White House, 13 December 1974. Photos: screenshot © Harrison Family; David Hume Kennerly; Bettmann/Corbis.

They'd been invited when George met Jack Ford backstage in Salt Lake City on 16 November 1974.

Olivia Harrison: “This is in the Oval Office with Billy Preston. President Ford’s son Jack had come to some shows and said: Why don’t you meet my dad? I was in the room, and George was telling Gerry Ford how Muhammad Ali had lifted up ‪the Beatles‬; I think he got two of them under each arm! Somehow they’d got straight into that conversation, then Ford asked him what all the badges he was wearing were and George explained that they were Krishna, Babagi [sic], and the Om sign. Then Ford went to his desk and pulled out a badge that said WIN, which meant Whip Inflation Now. So funny! I remember George wore red handmade Tibetan boots, probably the first hint of any protest about Tibet. A sly political statement.” - Olivia Harrison, Observer Monthly Magazine, June 2009

“We were taken up to into the private apartments, had lunch up there, came down and went into the Oval Office. […] There’s a photo of ‪Billy Preston‬ playing the piano in the White House. He was playing ‘God Bless America’ on the 200th or 2000th Steinway.” - George Harrison, Raga Mala

“According to the briefing paper for this visit, it was the first Presidential meeting with a member of ‪the Beatles‬. President Ford recognized not only ‪George Harrison‬’s musical ability but also his efforts to raise funds for UNICEF and various hospitals throughout the United States. (A2426-17 / National Archives Identifier ‪7839929‬)” (x)

[aaronsrpgs]

X-Men '97, Generative Human Intelligence, and My Problem With Studios

For me, the biggest problem of AI/generative art/predictive text is that it's created without the permission of the people who produced the source material, trained by underpaid people, and used by venture capitalists to suck up money and stop paying people.

A lesser problem is that, because it's trained on extant work, it almost always feel derivative and/or bad. I don't want to pursue criticizing it based on aesthetic stakes; I want to destroy the machinery and rob those who fund it.

It's me, I'm the Luddite.

HOWEVER, I can level those same aesthetic criticisms at someone else: the studios producing superhero shows and movies based on comic books. I just finished watching X-Men '97 season one, and it felt like it was created by generative human intelligence trained on X-Men comics. Which I mostly mean in a bad way.

Caveat: The show is decent, there are some cool moments, and I honestly feel like the people who worked on it had their heads/hearts in a good place and worked hard. I want studios to keep paying people, especially marginalized people, to work for them! Preferably under union protection.

However, as someone who's read entirely too many X-Men comics, the show felt like a vinegar reduction of decades of comic books.

Now, is that bad? Not necessarily. It's a good way to attract new audiences, and as someone who can appreciate stripped-down prose and movies that are only 90 minutes, I understand the impulse to get rid of the cruft and show the "greatest hits."

But the reason I like the X-Men comics I keep revisiting is that they're full of what I like to call friction or tension. And I don't mean dramatic tension. I mean that these comics were produced by (usually) a writer, a penciller, an inker, a letterer, a colorist, multiple editors, some sort of company president, and response to reader reactions. And they had to come out every month (usually), meaning there was an intense deadline, and they were heavily situated in the time they were produced.

God bless Ann Nocenti, editor extraordinaire.

Whoa, sounds bad, right? The opposite of an auteur system. But there's a very human friction in these books, because they were caught up in the interests of the (mostly) young (mostly) men making them.

Why did multiple issues of X-Men written by Chris Claremont feature sci-fi author Emma Bull's "filk music" band Cats Laughing? It wasn't because they were thematically related or popular at the time. It's because Claremont and Bull were friends.

Most fiction teachers would say that this sort of idiosyncrasy was bad, and in a novel written across years and released all at once, I'd agree! But in a serial format, I think it adds friction; it slows down the reader and makes them notice that is a product of humans in the specific time they were produced. And I like being reminded of that! I don't think all works should include it, but it's something that comics and TV shows can pull off, and that movies and novels are less able to do.

Speaking of Chris Claremont, he was the writer that really brought in and magnified themes of civil rights and queerness in the X-Men. His characters were human, radical, and varied. He wrote powerful women in a time that was rare in the industry. Also, his stories were very horny.

Put Professor X in bondage gear, you Disney cowards.

But Claremont is also a Zionist (I gather) and has written a lot of pro-cop X-Men stories. That sucks! To see him try to write stories of radical civil rights and boundary-pushing feminism while also objectifying women, writing about his personal fetishes, and doing some All Lives Matter stuff—that's tension.

I appreciate tension because, again, it helps prove that there are humans behind the work: fallible, changing passionate humans. I would rather read a story that tries and stumbles than a story that speedruns hitting all my personal beliefs like some sort of American Ninja Warrior MFA Graduate.

Watch him smoothly ride from queer representation to police abolition before front-handspringing into post-capitalist utopianism.

Which brings us back to X-Men '97. it's a sleek 10 episodes with clear character arcs for most of the characters involved. Impressive storytelling! But every sleek beat it hits is drawn from old X-Men comics (Lifedeath, Fatal Attractions, Second Coming, and many more). It feels like the writers' room was trained on 60 years of X-Men comics and isn't producing anything outside of that.

A short digression: isn't that how all human creativity works? Good question. Let me address it from a deeply objective and researched position: FUCK NO!

A single example: Jack Kirby read the pseudoscientific works of Erich von Daniken, which proposed that aliens had visited Earth in the past, as documented in many works of ancient peoples. It's a boring historical book. And Jack Kirby read it and made The Eternals.

POW POW! Shoot your alien gods.

I think a rabid consumption of media buttressed by a devout pursuit of creative skills will cast whatever work you do in an exciting and alien light. Please try!

I want to end on a positive note and mention my favorite part of X-Men '97. It's Morph! Morph's a shape-changing mutant who didn't appear much in the source comics. In the show, Morph is explicitly nonbinary, referred to with "they" pronouns. And they're 100% in love with Wolverine (who Claremont at one point wanted to write as a gay guy).

There are lots of great scenes with Morph coming to comfort Wolverine while he's in the shower, or turning into Wolverine's unrequited love Jean Grey to say "I love you" while Wolverine is unconscious and healing.

It reminds me of Mystique, the "evil" shapeshifter originating in Claremont's X-Men run. According to later X-Men writer Scott Lobdell, "It was always Chris's plan that Mystique and Irene Adler (Destiny) were lovers, and that Mystique at one point had transformed into a man and impregnated Destiny and she gave birth to Nightcrawler. So, Mystique and Destiny were actually Nightcrawler’s father and mother."

According to Claremont, Mystique was also Sherlock Holmes, and Destiny was the same Irene Adler that appeared in Arthur Conan Doyle's "A Scandal in Bohemia."

Later X-Men comics went pretty deep in exploring how Mystique, as a shapechanger, made a perfect spy, a confused double-triple-quadruple agent, and someone who transcended gender and fucked with identity.

And while X-Men '97 flirts with that (by having Morph flirt with Wolverine), Morph mostly serves as a vehicle for fan service cameos; they turn into X-Men and Marvel characters that otherwise won't appear in the show, seemingly so that fans can point at the screen and identify the character.

The end of season one sets up a potential status quo for Morph and Wolverine that's more character focused. And I would love to see that! But until then, Morph remains the face of human generative intelligence, referencing the history of X-Men comics that Disney and the show's writers' room have consumed in order to regurgitate as a 20-minute cartoon.

[johnthestitcher]

‘Army-Sanctioned Drag’ - 1943?

If you have time, go to YouTube and search out 1943′s biggest blockbuster ‘This Is The Army’ - a musical movie with 17 Irving Berlin songs. (Irving himself has an uncredited appearance singing “Oh, how I hate to get up in the morning!’)  There is a HD version of this 80-year-old movie, but the HD version has music before and after the film that is totally skippable. In this film, in the section on WW2,  (there is also a section on WW1) there are not one but THREE drag numbers! All of the men appearing in the film were servicemen, in service to Uncle Sam at the time. One of the drag numbers is extremely cringe-worthy! In it, men perform not only in drag, but in blackface! Odd, since there are real black men in the show (they do not perform with the rest of the white cast - the Army was still segregated at the time), but having real black men perform on a stage with blackfaced white men is just so wrong on so many different levels.

One of the drag performers is played by Alan Hale (Sr.)  - father to ‘the Captain’ on Gilligan’s Island. Ronald Reagan (!) is the major name lead performer, but boxer Joe Louis is in the mix, and of course Kate Smith appears to belt out ‘God Bless America’ in this patriotic bauble used to raise money for the Army Emergency Relief Fund. The army seems to have had no problem with men appearing in drag - so, what’s up, Governor of Tennessee?

[stevn93]

Not usually about it, but...

Me again old friend, was feeling a little down so I put some music box mix on TV to relax and take a old time tumble. To my dismay all I see are posts disparaging the country I call home, I can forgive the trashing of the government because it's been a mess for a long time. But blaming the country and hoping for it's failure... makes me sick. All the time people complain about the USA stepping in to matters that don't concern us and the moment we don't everyone hates us. Well reach into your wallet and send funds or enlist in the military of your choosing and take action. If you stand idle and spew hate and speak ill of a nation are you any better?? Are you doing anything different?? Sometimes I think of awful things people have spoken and wonder would it be better?? Bomb ourselves into oblivion and let the few if any survivors figure it out like in fallout?? The media is a joke and bought by the highest bidder or most powerful influence. I gave up on the news years ago as it was nothing but doom and gloom. I have days I regret having kids as they didn't ask for this...so I'm going to give them anything and everything I can. They are learning being independent well and are proving resourceful which leads me to feel they will be able to think on their own forming their own opinions and ideas. I have a number of unpopular ideas and opinions and I'm OK with that. I don't expect this to be all that popular. But back to the base of this, if you live in the USA and don't like it that much start a go fund me to leave. Don't like we as a nation aren't involved in something, step up and get involved yourself. In the early 40's people went to the fight before it ever came to us. Don't wish for ill fortune to others or their nation, because I have a big ol cup of FU to wash down a hard to swallow pill. The only way for evil to triumph is for good men to stand and do nothing. "Darkness cannot drive out darkness only light can do that, Hate cannot drive out hate only love can do that. " Martin Luther King Jr

May God bless America 🇺🇸 and may peace and love find a way.

[todaynewsupdate]

Interview of "RAZA KAZIM" with Host Muhammad Ali Raza (Daily Independent News Paper) TODAY, TWO RAZA’S ARE SITTING TOGETHER

Muhammad Ali Raza is a program anchor and journalist of Pakistan who conducted a written interview with the famous philosopher Raza Kazim. I have reached that now it has become very difficult to communicate with him, so I am looking for your written article. I hope knowing about Raza Kazim will be very beneficial and full of knowledge for you.

He invented a musical instrument, the Sagar Veena, of which his daughter Noor Zehra is the only player in Pakistan, and through her is the grandfather of the famous pop-rock band Noori duo, Ali Noor and Ali Hamza, while another daughter, Baela Raza Jamil, is one of Pakistan's leading educators, with major contributions in the field of education reform. He is also the uncle of actress and model Juggan Kazim. Raza’s journey of rejecting ugliness and pursuing human happiness, which got him involved with society, politics and the questions of his time, began in 1942, at the age of 12, when he became a part of the Indian Congress movement. After 1945 he moved away from the Congress movement and got involved with the Muslim League movement working for an independent Pakistan. After doing his LLB in 1953 he began his law practice and from 1959 onwards became Advocate Supreme Court of Pakistan. By 1965 he began to have serious doubts about the validity of the Marxist ideology but he persevered with it till 1970. In between, in 1962, he also designed the world’s first shrimp factory ship which was made by a team of Norwegian naval architects and engineers. After 1970 he began his quest of discovering a post-Marxist theory of social change, yet another attempt to address the issue of human happiness, in the light of the explosive progress in science and technology and developments in Brain Sciences, Astrophysics & Particle Physics. In 1995, he set up ‘Sanjan Nagar Institute of Philosophy and Arts’ (SIPA), as a laboratory for developing and testing this emerging theory,

which he calls ‘Evolutionary Mentology’, and has been funding it from his Law practice ever since. In the same year he also started a parallel organization called Sanjan Nagar Public Education Trust (SNPET) which runs a free school for girls in a working class area of Lahore. He currently devotes his time to the Sanjan Nagar Institute of Philosophy & Arts, a non-profit organization consisting of a team of fifty (now growing) full-time members working in the fields of Philosophy, Music and Photography. The Institute is currently based in Lahore. It is an honor for me to meet Raza Kazim. I am sitting with a person who is not only a philosopher but also a person with a very beautiful heart. He dedicated his life to serve country. This is my introductory meeting. I wanted to record Raza's interview but life did not cooperate. His age is around 95 years now I talked to Raza a lot while he couldn't even speak, he talked like children but as a journalist I will say this about Raza that "Pakistan has been made big by such people and it is because of him. In the love of the soil of the country, they turn themselves into soil, we should not only value such personalities, but it is also our duty to protect them.” May God bless Raza Kazmi with thousands of blessings and shower his mercy on him always. https://sanjannagar.wordpress.com/raza-kazim/

[returntosaturn271995]

Monday, November 20th: Queen of Clubs (Part 3)

You know what I like about rich kids? Nothing.

1). Bumbled my way with my baggage to Ember Locke (side eye is international).

2). Amazing hotel with a garden and cafe where I had the best chai tea latte of my life, was social with the staff and co-patrons, and vibed until my room was ready

3). Spent a solid 20 minutes figuring out the elevator (no sensor to keep it from chopping your arm off as it closes) and the lights in the room (have to leave your key card in place). Am I dumb? I think I might be kind of dumb.

4). Fitzrovia, the Vagabond, The Donavon

5). Got ready to British indie music to meet up with Josef and his friends at The Queen's Club, tennis courts you apparently have to be part royal corgi to get let in. I just walked past security in an upscale outfit: fitted black dress with a keyhole neckline, black tights, black boots, gold necklace chain tucked in to my cleavage, black trench coat.

6). My god, trust fund babies are a special kind of crazy. 17$ cigarettes, getting cut off and put back on again, and enough nepo-neuroticism that the guillotine is looking kind. I loved it in a White Lotus kind of way. A safari of 1% problems. I have never felt more charming, confident, or normal.

7). Ate a burger (the meat comes from a butcher that only serves the royal family and the club, but they'll only serve it well-done. As far as metaphors go it was a bit on the nose) across from BlackRock investors. I idly wondered if the world would be a better place if a comet struck the building.

8). Got a very lurid tour and some delicious red wine to wash down a tasty but ultimately normal burger. I'm sure the grapes were blessed by some sort of shaman. There was a lowkey racist vibe to the entire club that I'm not sure was entirely unintentional. New meaning to "tennis whites".

9). Allowed myself a nicotine high, since apparently, that's all people do out here. Another trust fund kid who had returned from Ibiza seemed worried his come down from molly and acid was taking too long (a couple of days). Didn't have the heart to tell him, he probably didn't take acid, but with genes like that, I'm sure he'll be fine.

10). Ypatsia, the Greek heiress (although frankly everyone there was inheriting something) with insanely blonde hair, likes movies and sees everything. Simon, cartoonishly rude and prone to French cheek kisses, suggested I take the Eurorail to Amsterdam. Josef is a compulsive liar when he drinks and likely when he isn't drinking. They all seemed miserable. It was fabulous.

"Simon is great once you get to know him", Josef said as Simon listened to YouTube shorts at the table, avoiding eye contact.

"I'm sure he's just a hoot," I said, smiling directly in the bastard's direction.

Later when we were on our own, Josef, clearly not well-acquainted with reality, mentioned that despite being an average-looking, 24-year-old millionaire with the social skills of a cactus, Simon does really well with women, "If you can believe it".

"You know, Josef, I can believe it."

11). Kicked Josef out of my hotel at 3 am, but kept his scarf (retail $900) as my second souvenir. Turns out he lied about being 28 and is 25. But that's the thing with liars. He wants to visit me. I put my foot down.

Can't have trash like that meeting my friends.

[impossiblepostchild]

Hofshi (The Liberation)  In Memory of the Holocaust. 911 and other tragic events to date of so many lives lost as one of my many gifts to the community to be used as multi-million fund raising event, sales of media (CD’s, LP’s, Streaming’ and or broadcasting rights etc) with all proceeds to the cause. For more information contact: jan.anthonisz@gmail.com

It’s okay I’m user friendly and use to death threats. So what? Been there done that! Remember to not destroy what you cannot create: LIFE-EARTH. Also remember to make your donations to a center near you. Not me as I am trying to lose weight. “Nothing but the tooth the whole tooth better to bite your enemies with”, aiming at most World Seeders and some Religious Bleeders acting as God all suffering from IVS. (Irritable Vowel Sindrome) to please their Knights in White Satan. Proud to be non-racist is because I am colour blind.

Musically Yours. Jan Anthonisz-1941: Composer, writer, inventor, researcher Oxford University Press, (Ret) Music and Science Master) Musician-Drummer, conceptual artist and etc. Please refer to YOU TUBE to audition the raw transcript: “The People’s Symphony of Remembrance” designed for full symphony orchestra, international: mass choirs, mass pipers, drummers, mass military marching bands accompanied by cannons, toll of cathedral bells along 2001 guns salute and more with fireworks within the upper regions of the atmosphere. An historical event to remember to all those who suffered until death of torture and starvation as the Holocaust continues to this very day.

Bless you all. Jan-The Silent Christian just like animals and children with suckling innocence-Member of the Loyal Family.

[penhive]

December 1st 2022

Yesterday I was pondering on the word miracle and then God spoke to me in a vision and I defined miracle as the victorious anticipated expectation of reality and hope it bears fruit in all my endeavors. I had only one class today and it was taking the tenses of the English to 5th graders. The kids were nerds and upon my slightest hint, they were able to coin sentences. I am an avid follower of the UAE lottery website and to my surprise they have enlarged the prize amount of the January 2023 draw to 35 Million Dirhams. For buying the ticket, I have to go to Dubai and I don’t have the moolah for it. I hope I can win a small amount of 5000 Rupees from a Kerala lottery and activate my dormant bank account and then take a loan from the Provident Fund. Again I exhort my existential philosophy of life: life is the celebration of meaning. I read the Bible and I have read the stories of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob.  It is surprising that Abraham was the grand old dad who created the Jews from Isaac and the Muslims from his maid’s son Ishmael. God blessed and multiplied Abraham in his later years. I am wondering what would be Abraham’s state of mind when he was asked by God to sacrifice his son Isaac and he willingly complied and at the last minute of the sacrifice: God provided him a ram. Yes, God’s victories are last-minute ones and God loves his subjects to keep on guessing his moves.  And that is God‘s privilege and pleasure. It is a mystery as to why God is harsh and kind, gentle and tough at the same time. I also fascinated with the villain and rogue Jacob who stole the inheritance and birth rite from his brother Esau. Yet, I wonder why God loved Jacob more than Esau. Again I read the story of Cain and how he murdered Abel. Why God show preferential treatment when he liked Abel’s offering more than Cain’s. And that was the reason for jealousy and hatred of Cain for his brother Abel. Yes God is God and no respecter of persons! No one on earth can question the will of God. I am coming to a new word: museicality. Museicality comes from Muse and Music and it’s a free narrative form of writing. Thoughts in museicality become an inner feeling and it is somewhat akin to streams of consciousness. I take Isaac’s blessing of Jacob upon myself: may you be blessed with Heaven’s dew, the earth’s riches, abundant grain and new wine.

[tonkitexas]

Octave therapy

Mindfulness – using a range of mindfulness practices, this aims to equip clients with the skills to manage emotional states so as to overcome stress, anxiety and depression.Cognitive Remediation – using computer programmes and group exercises, this aims to improve attention, memory, problem solving skills and impart thinking skills strategies to achieve vocational competence and community living skills.I was blessed to have had a beautiful spiritual master at a very young age who taught Self/God Realization thru the pathway of one’s heart. With the guidance of a credentialed art therapist, clients can 'decode' the nonverbal messages, symbols, and metaphors often. Having a 3.5 octave vocal range allows me to transmit a larger range of frequencies. Art therapy involves the use of creative techniques such as drawing, painting, collage, coloring, or sculpting to help people express themselves and examine the psychological and emotional undertones in their art work. Our goal is to return you to your highest level of vocal performance, allowing you to continue singing and helping you avoid recurrence of the voice problem. Illness Self-Management and Recovery (ISMR) – this aims to equip clients with knowledge, personal strategies and coping skills to manage their symptoms and reduce relapses to achieve their personal goals I am a sound therapist with over 25 years of vocal training as a classically trained singer. Singing voice therapy involves the practice of high-intensity vocal exercises designed to help you improve your vocal range, endurance, and voice quality.As such, a proactive attitude is very important. Participants are required to apply what they learn in the activities and skills training, and share their experiences in group sessions. We provide an avenue for donations, fundraising, grants, and other streams of funding to help continue the music therapy and support services we provide for so many of Arizona’s residents through our 501(c)3, federally recognized non-profit status. This supports their recovery and enables them to pursue a meaningful life. Higher Octave Healing provides music therapy to over 600 people each week. Our clinical rehabilitation programme consists of group psychosocial interventions aimed at empowering clients to manage their own health and well-being.